I wish I could peel off my scars and seal them in a manila envelope <br />Then hide it in the back of my wardrobe, along with all the sleeveless t-shirts that still have their price tags on <br />Just so I didn’t have to be reminded of my mistakes every time I look at my arms <br />Do you see me holding up a poster with “I SELF HARM” written on it? <br />Or holding out my severed arm to passers-by? <br />I don’t loop razor blades on a chain and wear them around my neck like a good luck charm <br />My parents brought me up by the Leviticus quote “You shall not make any cuts on your body…” <br />Now I carry this secret around with me like a Mormon carries his Bible <br />All year long, I wear the longest sleeves I can find <br />And still worry that people can see the lines across my arm through the thick fabric <br />You think I plaster this smile on my face because I am happy <br />But you don’t see the desperate, hurt look in my eyes <br />You think I am writing this poem for attention <br />But I am probably the only person who will ever see this<br /><br />Laura Clayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-self-harm-is-not-a-cry-for-attention/
