It goes much deeper than this, this pain,
but what’s buried inside,
my arms bear witness too on the surface.
I have no rational reason for this blatant
self destruction and I have no clear
solution to this pain.
My disillusionment with this world only forces
this habit into being;
this loneliness only allows me to subject myself
to this kind of torture.
The real torture however does not come
from the short self inflicted stabs at my flesh,
but can only come from the mind.
I see no way out of this;
even if I did these memories cannot
be forgotten and these psychological scars can
never heal like the ones I bring upon myself.
The issue isn’t the scars you can see,
because those are only small signs of what is inside;
and those cannot be shifted for anything.