Trigger Warning
I can see them, on my arms
And on the back of my hands
And I can see it in the way I look
At things
And at you
At everything
It’s not pain, really
It’s a color
Sometimes
A sound I make
Without meaning to
The way I think
The way I feel
About things
And people
And how I think
And feel
About everything
It’s not something I can hide
I haven’t been, anyway
Have I?
It’s something I know
About myself
And you
And things
And people
And everything
I know
I know
Just