So I'm currently in the process of writing a new story but I'm still editing the first few chapters. I should have them up soon.
So I was on the amazing world of Tumblr and I found this poem.
A girl wrote this poem for her English class and I found it very moving. *Contains self harm*
I knew a boy who liked to draw,
He drew pictures that nobody saw.
He was most artistic late at night,
In the bathroom, out of sight.
He kept a secret no one knew,
He didn't tell a soul and his gallery grew.
His drawings were different, no paper or pen,
But needed a bandage now and again.
We stood by the river under the stars,
He rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars.
He felt embarrassed and looked down at his shoe,
Then I rolled up my sleeve and whispered, "I draw too."
