It's a work of art
Filled with beauty
And memories
Or so you claim

As you push the blade
Into your flesh
And paint a picture
Of your feelings

And every single day
I see more and more
Of your horrible
Work of art

All I can think about
Is the by you forgotten time
Where your body
Was still art free

And you didn't feel
The need or the want
To destroy your body
With inerasable scars