You showed me those scars on your arms
and asked if they were too noticeable
I guess in a way
you were asking me if I could see inside your mind--
if others could understand your pain.
I said no.
I don’t know why I said no.
It hurts me to look at you,
It hurts because I’ve been there once or twice.
I look at you and see everything shattered,
The shards lay at your feet
begging you to step on them.
But you don’t need to.
You already know what it’s like to bleed--
inside and out.
I’m so sorry that you do.
So,
I guess that what I wanna tell you is
Yes,
your arms are noticeable.
Those scars are screaming out
“look, I’m in pain, but maybe i like it”
Please cover them up.
It hurts to see your life.