Just like the Chinese character tattoo that's healing on his upper arm, "strength" doesn't mean what you once thought it to. Don't be alarmed. There's nothing wrong. No one's ever going to treat you right. You're attracting the wrong kind and you're always left with nothing but anger and lord knows that it hurts when coming to terms with the lessons you're learning. You're trying not to show your eyes when you're addressing a new "Mr. Right." This isn't love but it still feels nice with these immaculate and warm insides. Never once stopping like a shark in its sleep moving just to breathe. This is what you call "free?" Harsh as it seems, maybe "love" means being naïve. The pure and eager part of me, like pledging some sorority, is losing its virginity in some bathroom during "hell week."