Cutting

a short poem about self-mutilation

Cutting away the pain
Leaving scars that never go
Always here to stay
Are the pretty marks I own

The blood that I've bled so far
Can make a river by itself
You can tell that by my scars
I have gone through living hell

Don't tell me it's not right
Because I've always known the truth
Don't fill my head with lies
I don't want to be like you