We feel a little pity, but don't empathize.

Attention, this is not a poem, but a helpful guide for those who cut.
I am not going to tell you how 'bad' you are. Or why cutting is wrong.
I cut, I understand, I bleed, I hurt, I feel.
But; take a pen, or sharpie, anything that won't hurt to use, and just doodle, or write, or sketch, on your arm, where you wanna cut, it helps so much.

( Hope this helps, it's my arm.)
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/400257485608340220/

Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness.
They may not wear it on their sleeves.
But it's there if you look **deep.

I sit, stay still, and let you yell at me.
But it needs to stop, not later. Now.
Because of you I am changing
Not for the better.
I'm becoming something rather than myself.
I'm becoming what you are causing.
I'm becoming You
A **Monster...

You degrade me, push me down, and hurt me.
But yet I would take on a army for you.

You make me cry, you make my soul sting, my heart clench up.
But yet I would take a bullet for you.

You notice my scars, then tell me to smile. But all you do, it's impossible for me to smile.
I etch some more into my arm, afraid of disappointing you, the one who caused these wounds.

"Don't yell." I proclaim. I may not be able to smile. But my flesh can.

See what I do?
I push through.
And I **Smile.