my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars and asking how they got it.

      [her hazels wandered;
       following where Mary caught the
       glimpse of her scars; the scars she
       c r e a t e d. she never really like to
       share the story. she never liked to
       bring concern to those who’d c a r e.
       so her fingers grasp her sleeve, and
       pulls it down to cover those scars.]
                                                                              ❝ … I… I self harmed
                                                                                 at… one point. ❞