The truth about my scars

The Real Me

When you look into my life what do you see? You see a girl who laughs and twirls. You see a girl with bouncing curls.
You don't see my tears
Through my smile you couldn't tell
You don't see the scars
Oh the storys they tell
You don't hear the blades calling me. They say they are my only friends
Now look into my eyes dear reader. What do you see? Are you starting to see the real me?
No
Nope
Not even close.
You would have to go to my home dear reader. To know the real me.
The real me is hurt.
The real me is lost.
The real me has scars.
The real me has given up.
She grabs the scissors, the razors and the knife.
Knowing the combination that worked just right.
Tell me dear reader. What do you see when you look at me?
She knew scissors caused the most pain but didn't cut as deep as razors
And knives were dull so that was null.
She exposed her hip pressing the blade to her skin...she closed her eyes and it began. She pulled the blade across her skin 16 times. 8 on the left and 8 on the right.
She covered them with bandages and the world never knew.
The real me will never heal.
That was never part of our deal

By me
Hailie