A mark on my skin just like any other
I fell off my bike, I talked back to my father
But some are precise, like surgical scars
Remind me of the ride in the hospital car
Ones on my wrist are faded and gone
Ones on my thighs stand bold and strong
Years have gone by and here they remain
A constant reminder of temporary pain
Occasionally when things are rough
I pick up my knife again in a rush
Cold steel burning against warm hands
Salty tears return me to forgotten lands
Cry out in pain, beat my own head
Put down the blade,say this friend is dead
I've been clean all these years
I'll handle this anger with tears
Hate myself, spit at the mirror in scorn
No more scars for my skin to adorn