I'm scared someone will finally see the sad girl I am.  
I'm scared they'll realize the smile I wear every day is fake,  
like everyone else around me.  
I'm scared they'll look down,  
see my arms  
those arms didn’t ******* deserve these scars.  

I'm scared they'll hate the girl I really am,  
happy one second,  
broken as hell the next.  
I'm scared they'll see me whole  
or what's left of me,  
the parts I didn’t cut away.  

Maybe I’m just not meant to be close to people.  
But I hope one day I’ll find someone,  
someone who’ll see these scars  
and not ******* judge me.  
I don’t need them to understand the pain,  
the kind of pain that made me do this.  
I just need them to be there,  
standing beside me,  
promising me it’s gonna be alright  
even if it’s not.  
Even if it never will.