You look down,
and see my scar.
You think I’m just another victim,
of self-harm.
I’m easy to distinguish,
from the crowd.
The one dressed all in black,
making up for what you lack.
You ask how,
I could do that to my arm,
and why do I practice;
the art of self-harm.
What you fail to see,
is that I choose to be free,
and no matter what I do;
I will always be better than you.
A wild animal or spirit,
emerging from within.
Trapped in this human cell,
I cut to release it from this hell.
It would be hard for you,
to see my reality.
Being that you’re just a domesticated pet;
a recrement of our society…
Joshua Fegley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/self-harm-or-self-help/
