The cuts..the pain..the blood..the truth. Label me a CUTTER

The pain that I feel inside and out just makes me want to cry, makes me want to shout.

The cuts the very fine slits on my wrist make me smile and think things are back to normal. The blood that drips drips drips down my left arm. Bright red streaks in many different dictations, one up one down thinking if I should do one all the way around.

My salty tears hit my wrist..it stings for a second but I know it will go away it always does.
It's the truth I cut believe it or not, but many do not want to believe but the eyes do not lie,what you see is the truth as many would label me
A CUTTER. The thin scars on my wrist is a poem that I just wrote for you.

* please comment what u like and don't like