Scars are a constant reminder,
of pain we once felt.
where we couldn't handle,
everything we were dealt.
I can't help but to see them,
and break down and cry,
because I remember there was a time,
where I prayed to die.
I do my best to hide them,
so people will never see,
because if they were to see them,
who would ever like me?
I don't like my scars,
that now cover my wrist,
because now I'm clean,
and wish the scars didn't exist.
