If scars could speak…

If each cut could speak. If each scar could scream. They’d tell you the reason their there. Upon my arms, legs, stomach hips…every part. They’d tell you it’s for many reasons. Memories of the abuse, the rape replays in my mind. Voices shout say it was my fault…that I should abuse myself. Maybe I’m so use to it, that it’s the one thing I know well. My reasons..are one to many. Abused, pain. anger, hate….some even a suicide attempt or two. But there are a million reasons, if only they could speak…they’d tell you