Scars left on my arm,
From the blade,
Slicing my flesh.

Pain and anger,
Too much to bear.
Took the razor,
And bleed.

Blood drops,
Falling to the sink,
Washing down the drain,
Washing away.

Scars on my arm,
Not fully gone.
Calling my name,
Haunting me.

Keep them hidden,
From the eye.
Can't let anyone see,
The pain inside.

If they found out,
Found out what I did,
They'd lock me up,
And throw away the key.

Be frightened,
Call me names.
Think to them,
I'd do the same.

They don't understand,
Get what its like,
To be me.

To keep it bottled up,
To not let it out,
To have no one,
To love.
To not be in control,
To not feel alive,
To want so bad,
To be wanted.

.:a/n:. I don't think this is finished completely. It is really bad, or
maybe its just me that's really bad at writing. Oh well, criticism welcome.