SELF HARM

people always told me my body is art, 

but i never thought so. 

so i tried painting on it,

but the paint is hard to use. 

it’s too watery,

i no longer like the red shade. 

the brush is too sharp,

but i like how it hurts me. 

maybe if i keep painting,

i’ll be worth something. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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