Differences

I am forced to bleed my own blood from time to time.
I bleed the blood of a thousand hurt souls.
And we both know why the small slits line up across my wrists.
Almost marking the days that I have been different.
Telling my stories.
The stories tell tales of an empty shell in an unforgiving time with humanity surrounding it.
Isolating it with qualities that differentiate it from the others.
This is what it is like to eat and breathe as the the souls who hide in fear.
Now here is on last helpless scream in harmony with the others that are like me.