my wrist is a canvas
and i am the painter
the blood streams down my arm
like a river of pain
that calms me with each ripple
the rush of adrenaline
like cliff diving into a lake of sadness below
it hurts
but the beautiful art created by the razor
makes my heart beat fast
and the people who admire from afar
know that i am pained
and i am a beautiful
my scars are a masterpiece
-c.a