I trace the patterns,

 across my skin.

Rmembering the pain

Remembering the sin.

They are all 

White and thin

My scars.

Somego down

Some go across.

Some on my thighs,

My arms,

My sides.

Some go deep,

Some are light,

My scars.

But they all speak of pain,

Suffering and sadness

My scars.

Always wearing armbands,

Long sleeved shirts.

Dont go to the beach,

Dont let them see.

Now I reach for the blade,

Made sure the door was locked,

Ignoring the arguing,

Embraceing the cold pain,

Of it gliding across my skin.

This is not healthy,

This is not right,

But its so addicting,

Relapsing now, tonight.

Slowly getting better,

But until I am cured,

I am adding to my collection,

My clollection of,

SCARS.