when you see me

what do you first notice?

Is it my sunken in eyes

my matted up hair 

my torn up clothes

Or is it my scars?

I can feel your stare seeping in it's a crime

To add salt to my wounds

I am marked forever by this illness of mine

I was doomed from the start, alone in my room

With nothing to do but look through the 

Catalog of my mind and

I remember the times I thought I was fine

But the pain in my eyes made you recognize

It were as if my life and death had tied

My skin is the roots of a wilted rose and my scars

erupting from my flimsy limbs are the inspiration for my prose

And this flower grows and grows and she knows the more she

picks picks picks the more the scar won't go

Concealer tubes pile up in my garbage bin 

Smeared makeup in every crease and crevice

You knock on my door, but no, you cannot come in

These graffiti filled walls are my own, my home.