Some people when they're feeling down,
Turn to self abuse.
I don't need the knives to slash my wrists,
I don't need the flames to burn my protective shell,
I don't need need the pins to stab at my soul,
I don't need the broken glass to tear my insides,
and make them bleed.
For that I have the memories,
I have the knowledge,
I have the certainty that this will never heal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem