the scars on your arm reflect a struggle. i dont know why you felt the need to do that to yourself. youre far too beautiful. but beauty doesnt make up for all the pain. and i never felt too beautiful anyways. for my pain is vivid reds and melted blues. its waking up with a pit in your chest every morning. its reaching for a hand soft and gentle to realize youve been fooled with selfish intentions. its finding a home in someone who kicks you out for leaving the lights on. maybe i was crazy for reacting in such vulgar impulsive ways. in fact i knew i was crazy and apart of me fell in love with this side of me that everyone else hated. somehow, someway i knew i had to let her go.