My body is my canvas, inspired by the world around me. I add little imperfections to my flesh. Why am I the freak? Everyone has imperfections whether it's scars, a broken heart, freckles, braces, uneven lips, or many more crucial qualities that have to be at the peak of perfection in order to belong in society. I don’t care. My imperfections define who I am. They make me an artist. The scars on my wrist help remind me that a hurt like that should never be forgiven. You’ve altered me completely. You made my heat a black hole of nothing. I loved you and you used me. You’ve hurt me beyond compare and ripped my heart out of my chest, then left it on the floor in shattered pieces. You’re a monster and you’ve made me some stranger to myself. I will never forgive you.That is why my body is my canvas.