Don’t look at me.

Please.

They cover me, puckered and pink,

Some fresher than others,

Some old and fading.

They burn when emotions overrun me,

Letting me know they are still there

Under my clothes.

Don’t tell me it’s wrong,

And you don’t have to tell me I’m ugly-

I look in the mirror,

I see it,

I know,

But it really isn’t wrong.

It’s certainly not right

But it has saved my life

If I had held it all in

And not let it trickle out

I probably would have drowned.

Don’t look at me.

Please.

Just let me go

And let me tend to them

They’ll go away some day

And then you can see me.

Don’t look at me.

Please.

All these scars,

They’ll scare you.

Please.

Don’t look at me.