I can still hear his voice
Telling me how worthless I am
I can still feel his hands
Over my throat
choking me
I can still see the blood
Dripping to the floor
From where he cut me
I can still smell the beer
On his slurred tongue
I can still taste the iron in my mouth
from where he would punch me repeatedly

I can still remember everything my brain allows me too

Them: I don’t see any scars
Me: why would I leave scars where you can see?

Most people have something to show
Something to be proud of
Awards
Medals
Certificates
Scholarships
Jobs
People they’ve met
Fame
Fortune
Love

The only things I have under my belt are
Scars
Hospital visits
Knowledge on how to hide blades and matches
Knowing my way around rules at “facilities”
Random facts about suicide rates
Knowing hundreds of painful and sad quotes off the top of my head
Heartbreak
Being overly knowledgeable on things like PTSD, depression and anxiety
ME teaching the professionals on mental health’s tricks and coping skills
Already knowing every single ******* thing THEY teach
Being able to get around the cops questions without any trouble
Being able to convince my friends and therapists I’m “fine” in a matter of minutes
Being able to cry without anyone noticing
Being able to change to subject so **** easily
Pain
Anxiety
And being able to recite every little ******* thing people have been trying to drill in my head my whole ******* life without a second thought