Forgive Me

There were no

scars on my

fragile wrists

only on


my dying

heart, but that

is almost

worse, where no


one can see

how lonely

and sad my

body is.


So forgive

me for not

loving my-

self, since no


one else would,

and how could

I know what

loving my


own soul feels

like, when i

was never

shown how.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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