selfinjury
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“Sorry.” One word, her life upon a page.
Glinting barbed wire wrapped around thin arms;
The suit of armor was also a cage,
And words inside her head did much more harm.
When people ask me why it looks like I play tic-tac-toe on my wrists,
I tell 'em it's because that's where I can feel my body insisting
Over, and over, and over again,
That it's alive.
Understand, this is not right.Listen, hear me warn you.This is not a fair fight.You will fail, win, lose.
Broken and drained, I’m vacant inside.The hurt I couldn’t handle overflowed to a knife
