Sometimes I forget about these scars.
When I see them,
I'm not just seeing little lines
etched gracefully
[and not so gracefully]
into skin.
I see other imperfections.
Those scars are just a reminder
that I am completely insane.
I can't handle love.
My scars are a reminder of that.
A reminder
that when things are bad,
I make them worse.
And when things are good,
I make them worse.
I don't think I want perfection.
I don't think I want to be perfection.
Not subconsciously anyway.
Consciously
I would like nothing more
than to erase these scars
inside and out
so I could be that blank slate
for you to do with what you please.
No... because that's not normal either.
I'll never be sane.
Take it or leave it.
