• You ask what the scars on my arms and legs are
    i shake my head and softly reply
    the scars on my arms and legs are morbid poems
    speaking truth
    they are not scars from self-destruction
    as so many say
    at least i know that
    but the blood never runs
    down my arms
    through my heart
    the morbid poetry is my own
    to decipher
    you say i should stop with knives and razors
    i already have
    it hurts me to hurt you
    even if i am hurting myself in the first place
    no more morbid poetry
    although some found truth in it