T never has, can’t feel a thing,
I should be glad.

Only a small one,
or two, or three,
covered in blood now,
no one knows me.

Hiding the evidence,
destroying myself,
people don’t know,
can’t tell,
can’t help.

Addicted to bleeding,
the numbness inside.
Can’t run,
can’t jump,
I smile,
I’m fine.