the scars on my wrists
tell stories
of how i've lived
of how i've died
the scars on my wrists
are ugly and disgusting
pinker than the rest of me
less loved than the rest of me
they are my weakness
they are my fears
my worries
my shame
my disgust
YOU ARE READING
poems from a girl who doesn't care (who also really cares)
Poesíai am a girl who does not care (but actually really does). these are my poems.
