She still remembers how hard the battles
against her own self were,
the light pink lines that will forever decorate her arms
remind her of the pain.
Her lovely boyfriend is trying his best
to convince her she's truly beautiful
and most of the times he succeeds.
She looks at sharp objects like
normal people do, without stressing about it.
There is really nothing to cry about anymore.
Yet, if she got the chance,
she'd gladly open her wrists again.
