It’s that undying question, it’s that pondering thought, “why does it feel so right when we slide something so sharp upon something so smooth?” And for some reason none of us have the answer. So I’m here to make you think, not judge, understand, not compare, and see where my thoughts come from and why I am like I am. My scars are very visible to the naked eye, but I still don’t understand the disgusted looks I get when someone just happens to come across them. I see nothing wrong with them. This is for those people that think I “cut” to get the sympathy attention. Well I don’t “cut” to kill, I don’t “cut” to see your facial expressions, I “cut” because when that razor slides against my wrist a sigh of relief is lifted off my shoulders and I can breath I can see the world how “I” want to veiw it. And when I bleed I feel absolutely great, so free, so… Right. So take me for who I am, not for what you think.