Scars

I hate always hiding my arms
In fear that someone will notice my scars
I hate always hiding things in my room
Making sure my friends don’t find my knife, or I’m doomed
I hate my life, it really sucks
If my friends found out, I’d be f u c k e d
I hate it when you go to the beach
And you still have to wear long sleeves
I hate it when they notice your much scarred arms
And when you tell them what it’s from, they act all alarmed
I hate it when no one really cares
But they pretend they do just to be there
When you fall, when you break down and cry
When you can’t take it anymore, when you just want to die
They sit there and laugh at all your pain
And the more pain there is, the more happiness they gain.