I realize now how scarred I am. How scarred others are. Everyday I go to school and see my friend cut herself. I know I do it too but I finally understand the pain of watching someone ruin themselves without admitting it. She cuts herself to pieces and draws with ink to hide those cuts. They are drawn and they cut other other cuts too. She is smart she knows how to hide, she knows how to keep a secret. To hide her hands, her scars and her life. I wish I was like her, someone who can hide, someone who can shroud themselves into another.

Pain is hurt. Deep and bloody and I love blood.

I almost never dream. If I do, I will never remember them. So I daydream. When I am in pain, I think of myself as a bird without wings. The bird is blood surrounded by fire, my hands spread wide in place of wings and I float in the sky. I slowly rot away but I still float and fly without wings. Like a scar on a butterfly's wings. It is freeing and I don't feel trapped in my own pain, body or mind.

Sometimes I wish I could tell everyone who left me to stay. To stop my mind from fucking me up. I wish I could tell them that I would do anything for them to not leave me. I wish I had a father, someone to balance my mother out. I wish I could tell him that this pain is caused because of him. I would tell everyone that I gave them everything, yet they left leaving me bloody on the ground. I am always a daydreamer and maybe that's good. It hides my scars with fantasies, my needs and desires with dreams of chasing sunlight. Maybe "One day these bones will heal and leave me with the truth".