My scars scare you. My actions scare you. My thoughts scare you. Your judgments put scars on me. Your the crazy one. My scars aren't hidden because I'm not ashamed of them. I know I make no sense and thats okay. I will never make sense to you. It's sad to say that there are many more to come. I wish that you could understand me. Each scar is a memory of a time in my life that i needed to feel alive. I'm a cutter,5 years of cutting. I can't stop the thought of cutting is always there. I'm a cutter,5 years of cutting!
5 years=more than 42 scars.
is it pride or shame that causes you to reveal this secret to the world?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what causes you much pain?