Lines
Dozens of lines
They decorate my wrist in the most truthful fashion
This one right here describes the lies you told me
And this one describes the bruises you put on my body
And that one there also describes bruises
But the bruises are on my heart and my soul
Those over there reveal the thousands of empty bottles that lie on your floor every night
Oh and those, those are your smiles
You always used to smile and pretend nothing happened
But I know that something did happen and so do you
You just hide it so, so carefully.
I, however, do not hide your lies
Your broken promises
Your abuse
I show everyone what you do to me
Because these lines
These cuts on my wrists
Were not put on by me
You put them there
And you say it’s my fault
It’s my fault that I’m a cutter
It’s my fault that I cry myself to sleep at night
It’s my fault that I have never felt love
Wake up, you a*****e
I did not put these scars on my wrist
I did not give these tears the energy to roll down my cheeks
And I most certainly did not fill my heart with hatred
My wounds were not self-inflicted
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