Scars
There once was this girl.
She didn't have many friends.
She was a beautiful artist.
But she didn't use a pen.
She didn't draw on paper,
Only on her skin.
She drew best at night
in her bedroom away from life
No one knew about how much she drew
Until she met a boy who liked to draw too
He pulled up her sleeves and kissed her scars.
Little did she know...
His scars wouldn't last long.
He was going away.
She picked up her razor and drew again.
She didn't end up on a display.
Only in a hospital.
Arm bound.
her own little hell.
Locked in her cell.
She had a dream.
about the boy who drew.
Her dream gave her the key.
The key to get clean.
