The secrets I hold

My canvas

I stare as the crimson blood, trails down my almond skin. The pale canvas covered by lines, scared.

But it's not a canvas, it's my wrist. The blood flows out my arms making trials. I close my eyes, shut. I can feel the warm liquid down my arm. I open them to find blood everywhere. People think self harmers are crazy, stupid, dumb. I might be, but it's the only thing that sets me free. From, the bullying, screams, and the fights with my parents, EVERYTHING. I can't do it alone, my only friend is my blade. The only thing that sets me free. It makes me feel alive

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