The cuts run deep
The cuts run wide
Criss crossing
in every way
Here, there, everywhere
Up my arm, down my arm.
Skin blood stained.
Covering the cuts,
so no one knows the things you do.
So no one asks questions.
So no one knows how much you really hide.
I choose to hide so much under these cuts.
Behind the smile I choose to put on every morning.
So no one suspects.
5 comments
Google the butterfly project.
I’ve heard of it.
Your a very good writer. Its so..vivid.
Thank you.
Means a lot
I don’t have scars on the outside but the ones inside are just as deep and painful, I feel your words with every breath and am grad that someone else out there sees life from the same perspective.