Thinkā€¦ of What Made Me So

The markings go invisible
For those not understanding
They are the questioners
They ridicule our scars
As the tears we cry transform
Into a pool of our blood;
That. Is our scaring.
You tell me I should be ashamed.
Why must you punish me,
Have you not done enough?
Think of what made me so,
I was distraught
I took the blade and dragged.
Think of what made me so.