Chained by your words

_{It’s a bad day at work, a face full of bullshit, a vivid dream. it doesn’t really matter. She’s always laughed when someone asked her what her vice was. She always said she didn’t have one because no one would want to hear hers. Because being an alcoholic, or a drug addict, or a chain smoker are all less frowned upon than her vice.
Its easier to take in and fight off somedays. Somedays it leaves her wanting. And while she knows she has the blessing of a few that understand, it feels like breaking down. Loosing some battle she wasn’t fighting and she hates it.
And while they chain the beast inside her with their logic, their reasons, their words and intentions. She fights back anyways because she wants to know exactly is so wrong about it, why she shouldn’t. Who its hurting. And because she just wants to hear it from their lips again as to why she shouldn’t. Those little words again that tell her someone’s concerned.}

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I doodled this up previously as a "hmm" and more of an idea as to something. Today was just a good day to sit down an ink it as the vague idea I'd given to behind the picture fit with my mood today. Might as well take advantage of it.