Every scar has a story to tell.
My story is nothing but a dream.
To be loved for me and not for someone else.
My scars show you that I am strong , felt so much.
My heart aces with pain and sorrow.
To let you in my life is scary thought , I been through so much. But hold me tight and keep safe.
My scars , my pain, my cuts and bruises tell all a story but the life I want is a dream that I soon hope to make a reality.

16 weeks, 1 day, 7hrs and 32 minutes.

Searching through whiskey soaked eyes, hoping life would cut him down so police didn't have to.

He stepped off.

Whatever last decent piece of him he had, was left, wind swept on a platform with unknowing idle eyes watching.

A 'good morning' or a 'hello'. Could have changed his course of action, but the drink spoke to him were others couldn't.

Just another forgotten page from yesterday's news. Imagine what he could have been if he was sober?
Help comes in all shapes and sizes.