I see the beauty

I see the beauty 

I see the pain 

I see a person who believed nothing matters anymore 

It's an art that reflects the pain of the artist 

Blades and lighters used instead of paint and pastels 

The precise lines carved into their skin reflects their journey and their pain 

How can something so painful and broken look so beautiful and delicate? 

I can’t look away, but not because I’m judging, but because I know that each scar holds a story 

Each scar is unique 

I don’t judge because I too have scars 

I was once the artist 

I see the story behind my own scars, and I see the beauty 

Why don’t others see the beauty too? 

Are we all so blind? 

Or are people just ignorant 

Maybe it’s just easier to not see

Pretend we don’t see the pain and suffering 

I don’t pretend  

I choose to see  

I see your beauty