I look down seeing the crimson stained papertowl,

Admiring the slashes across my wrist.

So beautiful.. My own personal art work,

As i pump my fist there's a knock.


I scramble to clean it all up as the door bursts open,

Seeing you're face my heart clenches.

As i wonder why you're here i notice the tears,

I bring myself back to reality.


I hear you asking why,

My answer wouldn't satisfy you though.

I brush it off and beg you not to tell,

Not to repeat what you've seen.


The crimson blood rolling down my arm,

The razor blades scattered across the floor.

My soul unleashed for you to see,

Everything thrown out into the open. 


I look for judgement in you're eyes finding none,

Only sympathy... All the worse.

You don't know the real me,

The one who's been through hell.


I look to you for comfort,

I find nothing there...

Nothing but something i knew wouldn't last,

Something i knew couldn't be. 


You may be gone,

But my heart will forever hurt.

My cuts may have healed,

But my scars will forever remain. 



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