So you want to see my scars?

This is my first scar.
This scar was your goodbye.
This scar was intended to
block out all of the hurt
when you left me here.
This scar was meant
to let me bleed
all the sorrow
out of my heart.
But this scar turned out
to be
something bad.
This scar led to another
and then another
and then I was lost.

My shoulder
is the worst.
My shoulder has so many lines,
it looks like
I was attacked
by a cheese grater.
One of my coworkers saw these
and almost reported me.
But I laughed and told her
that my puppy
needed her nails trimmed.
And she believed me.

I have more scars
on my hips
than I do
on my arms.
Because I didn't want
help.
I wasn't a desperate cry
for attention,
I just wanted release.
So my razor moved here.
Quiet. Alone.

And this one,
this one is the best
of them all.
H-A-T-E.
I carved this one
into my arm
after I felt so alone
and so isolated.

Because you just picked up all of your things,
and left me here.
You packed your boxes
and didn't even tell me
that you were leaving.
And I found out on accident
because my stupid car
broke down on the side of the road
and I had to call for help.
And I remember those boxes.
They took up your entire car.
And I knew
that if you had the choice,
you would have just ignored my call,
and left
forever.

See,
because of you
and how you hurt me,
when I looked into my rearview mirror
and saw someone that I
hated.



When I got out of the hospital,
I told Laurie about
this scar.
And you sat next to me,
and cried.

You are not allowed to cry.
Not when these scars
are because of you.