I feel a little embarrassed admitting this—well, maybe just a little,
but nearly every night, the pin is something I look forward to.
The wipe with alcohol, the steps done just so,
a habit that sits somewhere in the middle.
Reta is there, patient, holding hunger off,
helping me quietly as each day passes.
Then comes GHK-CU, going after repair,
saying softly, "Keep building—you're getting there."
And NAD+... what is there to say?
That spicy stick gets my day going.
It stings briefly, then it's over fast—
a small nudge: "I'm working on you."
Some people go for coffee, others pour tea,
while I have my tiny lab looking back at me.
Vials arranged like an odd little crew,
every one with a job, every one with something to do.
So yes, I'm embarrassed, but only somewhat.
When the time comes, I smile—I have to say it.
Not because of the needle, not for the sting,
but for whatever hope tomorrow may bring.
Does anyone else feel excited for the pin? Or am I borderline crack addict?
but nearly every night, the pin is something I look forward to.
The wipe with alcohol, the steps done just so,
a habit that sits somewhere in the middle.
Reta is there, patient, holding hunger off,
helping me quietly as each day passes.
Then comes GHK-CU, going after repair,
saying softly, "Keep building—you're getting there."
And NAD+... what is there to say?
That spicy stick gets my day going.
It stings briefly, then it's over fast—
a small nudge: "I'm working on you."
Some people go for coffee, others pour tea,
while I have my tiny lab looking back at me.
Vials arranged like an odd little crew,
every one with a job, every one with something to do.
So yes, I'm embarrassed, but only somewhat.
When the time comes, I smile—I have to say it.
Not because of the needle, not for the sting,
but for whatever hope tomorrow may bring.
Does anyone else feel excited for the pin? Or am I borderline crack addict?