This is Who I Am:

My body is covered in scars.

Some external,

Some internal;

I drew some of them myself

When I was alone and no one could

                                                                                                          Help.

 

I am surrounded by reminders

Of the days when my arms

Were constantly clothed

In long sleeves, bathed more

In blood than in water, for to

                                                                                                          Me

 

Life was an assignment

To see who could withstand

The most pain, to see who

Finally caved and tried

To go home, back to the earth where

                                                                                                          I

 

Spent so many hours kneeling,

Crying because the sharp blows

And the razor-edged words

Crumbled my weak foundation,

Condemning me to a living Hell.

                                                                                                          Am

 

I to look in the mirror

And seek beauty when all I see

Is that old emaciated body,

The face of a girl who let

Herself die, alone and

                                                                                                          Afraid?

This poem is about: 
Me

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