Monday, May 24, 2010

Not As It Seems

If I took off my sweatshirt
right now,
underneath the watching moon,
what would you see?

Would you see the permanent
scars that lace up my
arms like permanent tattoos
as scars that I created
because I am a cutter?

Or would you see
the pain that caused them,
the echoing laughter
that was directed
at me?

Would you see my
bony arms as those
of an anorexic
who only thirst to be
beautiful?

Or would you hear
the yells of an angry father
who never saw me
as beautiful,
no matter how skinny,
no matter how hard I tried?

So what would you see?



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