i have a scar, on the inside of my wrist
not from a blade

it's from my own fingernail
that time i tried to peel my skin off
tired, so tired, of being a
person

i told everyone it was from the curling iron

i convinced myself that the lines on my wrists and thighs are my nicest attribute
it’s disgusting
im disgusting
whenever they fade i replace them with a new batch of burning bleeding lines
they look at me with concern in their pupils
but i’m fine i really am
im just a littler prettier with the ugly
leaking out of my putrid body
pale skin with green veins
fading pink lines reminiscent
turning white on my tan thighs
the Xs and the uniform pattern of lines
i didn’t mean to turn out this way
i didnt mean to let myself become disgusting
i cant help wanting to be pretty
greed led me to addiction with ripping myself over and over until my hands are stained with my self hatred

I took my knife out
ready to be tainted in red
and it makes me want to cry
I don't want to do it
I want to believe
we can be pure
but I'm
              r
                 e
                     d

blue
is supposed to be
a sad color,
a calm color
the color of gentle waves and tears

but with you

blue was my happy color
the color of your excited eyes,
your favorite flowers
the blueberries you loved,
so dearly
and when we kissed
you left me
in a haze of
wonderful blue