The lines on my thighs,
Paint and tell stories.
About my lows and highs,
About my hurt and loneliness.

Some blur together,
Story behind each forgotten.
Just a permanent keeper,
Of pain once written.

But some I can point to,
Tell you exactly who caused it.
The story of what they put me through,
How they made me wanna quit.

I won’t do that anymore,
I’ll accept that life hurts.
I won’t do what I did before,
I’ll put it into words.