I don't use the blades anymore
Instead, my mind becomes the blade
My psyche resembles my wrists
because I'd rather you see the blood in my eyes
Than drenching through my sheets at night
I'm getting so sick of this blood and tear stained bed
I've resolved to keep it all in my head
because I know what happy boys do when they see scars
When they see a flicker of the perfect girl being imperfect
They run, as far as their happy legs can take them
they run to the smiling girl,
But I can be your smiling girl
I won't show you my sad
I won't show you my numb
I won't show you anything that isn't perfect.
Instead, when I'm feeling down
I'll run to the bookstore
And sit on a comfy chair in the poetry section,
You'll never find me there
because you don't know that I love books or poetry
because you think I wouldn't be caught dead in a bookstore
because you think that tea is too bitter.
So I won't show you anything other than what you want to see
and when you're here to stay,
I will be happy.