She cuts her skin
With a razor so thin
And bleeds out all the pain
That hides inside
And won’t subside
‘Til she cuts herself again.
She demonstrates
Her discovered fate
Thru words scratched in her arm
Words carefully chose
Changed as often as her clothes
But always still spelled harm.
No one else felt
She deserved love for herself
So why should she even try?
They called her strange,
Passed it off as a stage,
Still blinded to the beauty that she hides.
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