I'm Starting To Think...

Then Wouldn't There Be Bravery...

You can tell me that you aren't scared,

But the fear is sacred in your eyes,

Tell me that we aren't done,

But don't you see these scars?

They litter and dirty this skin,

That I call a sketchbook,

You wonder if it hurts?

Then try it out yourself,

But don't,

Just read my words,

And feel the emotion I cast-

Upon your scarred face,

Nobody is brave anymore,

Those stories about armored knights?

They never existed,

They just sparked a fake hope,

That someone can be like that,

So heroic-

Don't cry,

Real cutters don't cry no more,

But I guess I'm not a real one,

So I wonder what these red lines are,

Are they stick figures?

Of all the ones that hurt me?

Or is it signifying how deep I'm digging this hole,

That I can't crawl out,

Too bad I don't wanna,

So c'mon,

Tell me you aren't scared of who I am,

Or who you are,

Because I know you aren't brave,

Bravery doesn't exist,

Haven't I explained that enough?

So that means you don't exist,

Oh well.

Make yourself known with that bloody water,

But sadly you can't,

Nobody cares anymore,

Don't you realize?

It's not called,

E:xtra

A:**holes

R:uining

T:he

H:umanity

Without a reason.

*I Am Not Supporting Cutting*