Disregard the sacred
as I peel back the skin
Writing anthems of remorse
amongst my pale skin.
The truth is
I want to say what I feel inside.
But when the blade takes my breath away
My words won't formulize.
If I'm as strong as I think I am, I can do this
So across my mistreated epidermis
I no longer let the blade lay.
I will rise above my once gathered ashes,
and my thoughts, I'll verbalize.
Truth is, I knew I could.









8 old applause
