I'm not okay

I'll paint my soul on paper,
and post it here for you to see.
The words shaped like my scars,
might explain what it's like to be me.

The words come hard and slow some times,
I try to write but they resist.
The words come thick and fast sometimes,
like the blood flow from my wrist.

I'll try to tell you how it is,
and not lie to make it pretty.
I'll not post things to try and impress you,
or exaggerate to get your pity.

The stories I write are true,
and this pain in my heart is real.
I trace the blade across my skin,
it's the only way I can feel.

Most people will never read this,
but it is important that you do.
My stories may be hard to read,
but they might be real for someone close to you.

We are excellent at hiding,
those of us that feel this way.
But most of us are just hoping,
that someone will notice we aren't okay.

So try to actually listen,
when someone tells you how they are.
one kind word from you,
might stop me making another scar.