These scars on my skin, are imprinted on my heart,
As I stare at the blade I know we should part .
Your my only friend, I whisper as he disappears into my skin, cutting away as though I’m paper thin.
The rushing of blood, runs down my arm, screaming on the inside, but outside still calm.
No reason to panic, no cause for alarm, for me it’s self expression, to you it’s self harm.
My feelings are bottled, but yearn to be free, to finally drop my act and unleash the real me.
And as the blood begins to pool; as it normally does, my body goes weak, my brains starts to fuzz... And I’ll lay on the floor, with no want to find help, I won’t scream out, not even a yelp.
I’ll watch the pretty patterns appear on my flesh, so pure, so new, so needed, so fresh.
You can try to help me, urge me to seek guidance, but I’ll always have these marks, my constant reminders.