That is my arm
That's is my arm after,
Hours after the scratching
The picture can't pick up how bad it is
The red scratches all along my arm
The way I'm wearing long sleeves so my mom doesn't see
I
I did this
I found a new way
A replacement for cutting
Just when a blade isnt available
That's my fucking arm
And I don't know how to feel
I don't know how to feel anything anymore
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stains
Poetry*trigger warning* I'm lost•I'm broken•I'm hurt•I'm sorry ~the ones marked "x" are about my struggle with food and eating~
