My flesh will tell you a story,
of a man filled with self loathing.
Deep scars across my legs,
for never being good enough.

My own self mutilation.
No one to blame but me.
Still, much as I love my scars,
I wish no one else could see.

For they cause pain and problems.
Even doctors rush to judge.
“This person is not sick,
he’s just crazy.”

I am not crazy, just in pain.
It’s a deep horrible misery,
just inside my brain,
and it never goes away.

But for drugs and the knife,
it’s a struggle to get through life.
Yet I learn to be stronger,
every single day.

Medicines and therapy.
A whole team to make me well.
They’ve shown me what I can do,
when I put my mind to it.

Now it’s been months,
since I held the knife.
Bit by bit, day by day,
I’ve been taking back my life.