These scars up my wrists,
Are not just some marks,
These are my lists,
Of painful remarks.

And if you think I am lying,
You should know you are wrong.
But if you think I am crying,
What took you so long?

Because these scars on my arms,
Are not from just falling.
And such deceitful small charms,
Are what keep you just stalling.

And though it seems that I’m dying,
And I’m left all alone.
You should know that I’m trying,
And I’m not on my own.

Because I can’t seem to grasp,
The thought of having a hope.
But I scream and I gasp,
I hurt just to cope.

So help me up and take my hand.
I’m learning now to walk.
So pull me up and help me stand.
I listen as you talk…

The words you said struck me as strange.
Not something I’d heard so often.
Now wanting to start over, to change,
To let my heart melt, to soften.

These scars on my wrists,
Are not just vain marks.
They’re my story of twists,
Where I heard His remarks…

God, if You can save me now,
Listen to me cry,
I’ve been asking You how,
And I’m willing to try.

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About Robin Elizabeth

My name is Robin Elizabeth and I'm 21. I do not create with my own ability, but with the gift God has given me.

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