Fine Line of Blood

Scraps and disguised cuts on my arm,
Part of the new construction, me.
I'm sorry I didn't say,
I knew you would react this way.
No blood forced, a red burn line,
Stings the surface of my skin.

The happy me, she's gone,
And I don't know if she's coming back.
Laughing at my stupid jokes,
Everything was so different.
Where do I fit in now?
A square trying to make their way through a triangle.

Rough edges, need to be scaled behind,
The four angles of my face shut down.
No reflection, only tears that cried,
When I couldn't speak my words.
Feeling dead, I have no use,
Slipping away in the dark.

Why am I here?
Wait for me to catch up.
I can't make it on my own,
But I won't let you help me.
Cut me out of you,
Cut the pain out of my inside.

Thanks, but I have to sew things myself.