SELF HARM
people always told me my body is art,
but i never thought so.
so i tried painting on it,
but the paint is hard to use.
it’s too watery,
i no longer like the red shade.
the brush is too sharp,
but i like how it hurts me.
maybe if i keep painting,
i’ll be worth something.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: