What if I told you?

What if you see?

What if i show you what my scars mean to me?

They're on my arm, and my legs, hidden away

No one knows that i got them because of the things that you say.

I know that you'd hate me.

If I told you why.

I want to tell you every thing

Like how I cut myself when I just need to cry.

I want a hug.

I need one right now.

Because I made more scars. 

But no one should know how.

But i still want to tell you.

I'm going to cry.

Because no one understands the reasoning why.

Why do i make these scars you ask?

Do you know what depression feels like?

It's like an emptiness that just won't pass.

The thoughts just keep spiraling,

Dragging me down.

They're like a weight.

I'm lugging around.

I guess I just want to feel loved.

Instead of torn apart.

And that's why I make them.

Scars.