Before I counted the notches in my skin,
There was one who started it all.
Red hair like fire and quite taller than me,
I called him my friend that's all he'd be,
Notche one doesn't have a name,
For I was merely a babe.
I grew up that day, unknowingly so,
Of love unrequited, to notches they go.
Notche two is quite a nice young man,
But unconsciously reminds of inadequacy in that I am.
Notche three is the big one,
He started the counting
And made me start doubting.
His notch draws blood of self affliction,
And brings on the punishment like an addiction.
Notch four was quite nice, a little quiet for me,
A bit quirky,  but he smelled good to me.
I played wife in hopes of reality,
But it was just my own fallacy.
Notch five one-uped everything,
And now he is dying of disease with no cure.
I had hoped to come into his life and make it more.
Now I'm not sure if I will see him anymore.
Notch six was my first love,
He makes me want to *****.
Notche seven is the one I can't get over,
He's ruined everyone else for me,
The worst part is that he'll never be mine.
Oh how I want him to be mine.
Notche eight baited me,
I thought I had a catch.
But his hand was down another girl's pants.
Notch nine is the freshest,
But my feelings are in repression,
For it wouldn't be fair.
Notches ten, eleven, and twelve are yet to be met,
Each are deeper as they get.
Notches and notches upon my skin,
Of love unrequited to notches they go.