i bite my nails. we all have our bad habits.
today it's not even that bad. i used to bite them so low they'd bleed. that's when i was first sent to talk to someone. why do you do this to yourself. you're 11. you don't know worries. a little pat on the head and a healthy dose of sun cured me.
the burn on my forearm? from november? i dont even remember the pain. now it's june, and i've still got a nasty scar. on several occasions my mom has remarked how she wants me to have it fixed so my forearm isnt so ugly. it's smaller than a dime.
i don't mind it so much though. it's got a good story behind it. i'd never been burned before, no one told me to pour cold water over it. you live and you learn.
it's the scars no one can see that need to be 'fixed.' the scars that i can't even see because i refuse to look at them.
but i'm working on it, guys, i am. with a little help. you live and you learn.
i was just wondering if you'd come along
and hold up my head when my head won't hold on