I reached for it again earlier Even though I told myself that I wouldn't And I held it close to my skin Sat there, staring down at the contrast Before putting it away again I always tell myself It doesn't matter to me if I have scars But then I think It will matter to someone else And I don't want to have to explain Line after line I'm not good at talking
Yes, this is about cutting. But it was a long time ago. And I didn't do it.