Scars, a part of me

This sullen part of me.
Refuses to even look upon,
The curses etched into my skin.
Belonging to a dead time in life.

Lines marking out an artificial death wish,
By which no answers were found.

A self conscious burden,
Of the subhuman kind.
Im a disgust, a disgrace.

Who with moral & intelligence,
Would bury a blade beneath their skin.
No one.

Im better then no one, now.
This morbid, horrid reminder,
To which eyes nor sunlight will see.
Its sickening, inferior.

its me.