Forgive Me

There were no

scars on my

fragile wrists

only on

 

my dying

heart, but that

is almost

worse, where no

 

one can see

how lonely

and sad my

body is.

 

So forgive

me for not

loving my-

self, since no

 

one else would,

and how could

I know what

loving my

 

own soul feels

like, when i

was never

shown how.

 
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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