With shaky hands I held the blade,
In which the first cut was made.
I smile and laugh right with you,
But no one knows my feelings true.
Beading blood and numb inside,
Trust me, please? I've really tried.
Life's not bad, I've got it good,
I just don't feel the way I should.
Now with months and expertise,
Steady hands are what I see.
Scars hidden, new and old.
A story for each, never told.
Still smiling and laughing,
Slicing and slashing.
My life as it goes,
Still nobody knows..