*Foreword*
The asexual community wears black rings on their middle finger to identify themselves.
Many health agencies around the world consider transgender/asexuality as a mental disorder
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She walked with her friends; laughing and gossiping
The black ring on her middle finger carefully concealed.
'You don't have to hide it.' People would tell her
'It's alright to be different' she was told.
She decided to show her differences-
The next day she walked with her 'friends', some of who left the moment they saw the ring.
Numbers slowly diminishing, she was soon left with nobody at all
Now she walks all alone, nobody to interact with
The black ring on her finger, clearly displayed.
People whisper and talk, pointing, spreading rumors
About her mental 'illness'.
Except that she's not really ill, only different
But a different person cannot be lived with.
So they kick and scream at her, curse and insult.
'People like you shouldn't be allowed to live'
To be like others, what not she would give.
'Don't worry, it's just a phase' some would say
Others, look at at her with such contempt like she ruined their lives.
Now all battered and broken, she goes to her room
As if in a trance, walking up to the cabinet, she takes out a bottle
5,7,12...who knows how many?
She feels her body go lighter and lighter
The only thing she can think of is how welcoming the darkness is.
