becoming scars,
my cuts are deep.
bottle opened,
the pain released.
i'm unable to hide,
the rage i feel,
the pain escaping,
becoming real.
while cuts heal over,
and pain fades away,
my cuts leave scars,
and memories stay.
in my mind,
i see the pain.
make the cut,
renew the stain.
my scars seal up,
my memories.
on my body,
for all to see.

i actually wrote that poem, is it any good? if it's not i do not care. it means something to me.

mucho amor -me