This isn't my poem it is KillmeifyoucanGBM's.
All credit goes to her.
I once knew a boy,
He liked to draw pictures,
Beautiful pictures,
That nobody saw,
He drew by himself,
Alone at night,
Locked in his bedroom,
Out of sight,
The pictures were strange,
They came with a twist,
His pen was a razor,
His canvas a wrist,
We lay out at night,
Watching the stars,
When he lifted his sleeve,
And showed me his scars,
I wasn't shocked,
I knew what to do,
I lifted my sleeve and said,
"I draw too."
