Descriptionari does not publish entries for "self harm" unless they serve to inspire young people to seek help for their problems. Entries may not glorify self harm or promote it. If you are reading this because you have the urge to harm yourself please go to a trusted adult for help.

By angela, November 17, 2014.
Romance / General

She hasn’t laughed in a long time. I remembered when she used to laugh, dance, talk... I put my hands onto her waist and slowly rolled down her underwear. I was so high off of love that I wasn’t expecting to see anything bad when I looked down. My smile quickly faded and Leah instantly knew what I saw. She desperately tried to cover them with her hands, but I removed them. Dozens of scars were dug into her body. Older ones. Newer ones. There were even some cuts that were fresh. Still puffy, red and bloody. Deep cuts against an unfinished canvas. It wasn't fair. “What are these from?” My voice was shaky every word wobbled. But she didn't have to answer I knew what they were from. “ Why Leah?” She couldn't answer. She couldn't breathe. And she definitely could not look at me.

I gently brushed my finger across them and then my hand trailed up her body. Causing shivers as I past her ribs. My finger swirled her bra strap until he unclasped it. I wanted to do the whole thing , but I couldn't get over that fact that she carved a razor into her side. Clean deep cuts, just to wipe away her pain. She thought that cutting herself would fix it, causing physical pain to take over her mental pain. Leah put her hands onto my waist, but I shook my head.

By Olivia.1, December 25, 2017*.