She lifted up her brush
And brought it onto part of her paper
Letting the red paint spill over
Until nobody coild save her
She slashed it into oblivion
Letting all her trubles spill over,
Until she was proud with her artwork,
And nobody could now hurt her,
She carved happily onyo the canvas,
With all the knowledge she had,
And ignore the pain,
And the unearthly feeling of doubt,
She was free from the earth,
And all that had trubled her,
For her paper was her wrist,
And her brush a sharp razor,
But now could she look and say it was all in hear head,
For her mind had poisoned her heart,
And now she was dripping in red,
Her madness over took her,
And when she look at the spirals,
She thought they look pretty,
Cut into a part that was vital,
Now she can cry ans say she was wrong,
For the ruin of her wrist marked the death of her heart.
YOU ARE READING
self- harm / depression/ suicide quotes
PoetryI got them from another book but I like them. And I basically my life/mind in a nutshell. But most of them are probably going to be my dark suicidal thoughts. thanks you love you all and stay strong you beautiful people if you need anything I'm h...
