Regret

I used to think the scars were pretty
In different shades of red, purple, and white
I used to roll up my sleeves and grin,
Overjoyed by the sight
I used to count them
One, Two, Three, Four
((Though there are far more))
Leaning on my bedroom door
Tore off my shirt,
Removing the veil
Pulled down my skirt
Evidence i could feel
I used to trace them with various pens and colours of ink
Worshiping them,
Not once did i stop to think
Perhaps one day i might regret
The reminders on my body
Things i could no longer forget
Present every second of every day
Marks I could never wish away
This disease; This cancer
The masochists signature
First name: pleasure
Last name: pain
Moments I'd treasure
Before remorse I'd attain
As though my mind betrayed my body
My being
Not till it was too late, did i begin seeing
That these footprints of my misery,
However
Were something I'd have to live with
Forever.