Manda

Artist with a Different Brush

Copyright Manda

She is talking to herself in the dark of the night
Words carved into her skin that tell her life story
She sings her pain through the red scabs and white scars she placed on herself
Small scars on her hands, larger designs on her arms and legs
Crosses and pentagrams all over her pale body
The metal blade against her numb body does nothing
She presses harder and begins painting a picture with the blade as her brush
Dragging the blade back and forth across her already scarred arm
Red sticky liquid escapes her body in droplets
The blood stains on her rug remind her that she is in control
At first she only cut to release her pain when she was angry
But she became addicted to the sensation cutting gave her
She has control on how deep she cuts
She makes sure not to cut to deep around her veins in her wrist
She is not suicidal, even though some people classify her as a suicidal teen
Her old friends say she is demented
But she doesn’t care
But she doesn’t care
People judge her because she is a cutter
But she doesn’t care
Cutting herself is her individual way of releasing her stress from the day
She does not drink
She does not do drugs
She is a straight A student
She is a self-mutilator

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