Scars

Scars are a way of expressing yourself
Sometimes in a good way
Other times...not so good
My scars are a mixture of
Love
Sadness
Depression
Hate
And even the good times
But most weren't an accident

Most my scars are on my arms
Haunting me every day
Reminding me of the past
Of how much I was hurt
I carved his initials into my skin
So I would love him forever
Even though he said he loved me
He lied

I lost my best friend in the world
To some stupid fight
So I dug deep into my skin
With that razor sharp knife
We are now friends again
But not like we used to be

I was so depressed
With myself
My dropping grades
My life
I cut away the pain
I bled away the tears
I cried myself to sleep
I wished that I'd just die
And make myself not hurt

She was always yelling; screaming
I got so freaking sick
I cut so hard after she yelled
I bled
And bled
And bled
She never knew the crap she put me through
The sleepless nights that I just knew
Would put me to my end
There was never a day
That she didn't yell
Sometimes I even wished that
She would go to hell

Even during the good times
When my life was well
I cut myself too hard at night
Because I was addicted
Addicted to the pain it brought me
And sometimes I think I'm still
Addicted to ANY pain
Sometimes I purposely hurt myself
To see if I still feel
To see if I still love
To see if I still hurt
To see the beautiful
Scars

(Everything you read in this poem is 100% true about me)