the first time, it was cold.
a dark November night.
what else was I to resort to?
there was nothing.
my mind fuzzy.
my vision blurry.
I reached for the slick piece of metal.
the sharp object that would soon be my saving grace.
the answer to my questions.
the right to my wrongs.
it felt better just to drag it across my thigh at first.
feel the scratching of the metal across my untouched skin.
to barely leave a mark but still feel the pain was my intention.
but soon it turned into more.
six lines in a row everyday over my beautiful skin.
a punishment for the things I thought I had done wrong.
soon my untouched skin turned into a scarred masterpiece.
something so horrible...
but yet so beautiful.
something I hated...
but yet was so proud of.
but nobody was supposed to know of my masterpiece.
it was supposed to be the secret between me and my demons.
the ones I fought everyday.
the ones I still fight to this day.
and finally I let the secret out.
<3