Give care, warmth, support to others
Lifting them up to feel the love in the world
Feel every imperfection, bump, defect of my body
Scratching & picking away
Till they are stained
With my blood.
There is no pain greater than seeing how much I hate my own body, skin, blood.
Each scab becomes a scar
Forever showing my hatred of my own body, skin, blood.
People say you have to love yourself before you can love others.
I dont love anything about me.
I am simple, plain, boring.
Nothing but a scar of memories. Of broken skin, stained by pain.
I hate every scar I have.
It shows my pain, even when all I want is to hide it away.
Pretend it isn’t there. Everything is alright.
My body is a scar, wound, battlefield.
And my hands.
My hands are the enemy.