It seemed logical at the time.

But now I stare at the scars,

Demonized by those around me.

To them each one is ugly,

To them each one is alienating.

To them each one is my insanity.

 

It is monstrous to them

But to me they were a lifeline.

They were a way to feel when I felt nothing at all.

They were a way to punish myself for my mistakes.

They were a way to take the cuts on my soul, into a physical form.

 

Once a lifeline that I needed,

Now they are my shame.

A reminder to a darker day.

A reminder of my strength that was my weakness.

A reminder that to other I'll never be good enough.

A reminder that I was not okay, and may never be.

 

Yes, they are my sham,

But I don't regret it.

They gave me life when I felt dead.

They gave me help when no one would.

They are beautiful in a way that no one would understand.

The shame created by those who judge.

The beauty in the fact that I have survived

What drove me to the point of my damage,

To the point of self destruction.