My tears burn as they run down my face.
From the sorrow that is my depression of loneliness and hurt.
I don't think they care about me.
Feeling alone, deprived and left out.
The feelings of the piercings make me feel alive.
Like I can feel something else besides the waves of depression.
The scars the pin leaves are red with my sorrow.
As soon as the people that surround are gone, I start to feel again.
All the emotions they wash away come back when they leave.
Making me want to pick it up again and drag it across my smooth skin.
Bringing a familiar pain that I have not forgotten.
It'll progress, come more serious, and only few will know.
What they will do is up to them but...
What they do will not help me.
