"here is a map with your name for a capital. here is an arrow to prove a point - here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist. here are the illuminated cities at the center of me."
allie [x] likes (telling, reading, hearing) stories and being a nerd...

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I have scars on my left arm

that look like

someone played a reckless game of

Tic Tac Toe on it

with a knife,

and without circles.

Just angry

red lines

that pucker and bleed.

And I couldn’t help but think

that maybe

this is what you see.

When you,

you know,

do it.

I don’t know where I got my scars,

but if I concentrate hard enough

I can see you

slashing silver blades onto your own skin

and making the same marks.

It hurt like a bitch

and stung the whole day,

and all that time I made sure to shield the scars

from my classmates

so they wouldn’t think I was a cutter.

The scars stung

every time I tried to hide them from view with my other hand -

does that happen when you hide yours? 

I’m trying to understand.

But I don’t think I ever can.

And I want to.

If only to save you.