Technically It's Been 2 Months

The raised welts

From the incisions

I made on my arm

Hurt when you touch them.

 

I remember when I pulled apart

The wound so I could watch

The blood form a pool

And leak out of my skin.

 

Now they are just raised

On my body with dried up

Darker than crimson flakes.

 

One was from the handle of my bowl,

Broken off from when I dropped it on the ground.

The others are from my paper cutter,

The one I used to carry to school with me

To finish those last minute projects.

 

I like it.

I like them.

 

Why must this be so unacceptable?