She can paint a lovely picture but this story has a twist
Her paint brush is a razor and her canvas is her wrist.
She paints her pretty picture in colour that's blood red.
While using her sharp paint brush she ends up finally dead.
Her pretty picture fading quite slowly on her arm.
The blood not racing through her she can no longer do harm.
She paints her pretty picture but her picture has a twist.
You see, her mind was a razor...
...and her heart was her wrist.
YOU ARE READING
Suicidal thoughts
RandomSuicide thoughts. Song lyrics. Random poems here and there. Just something I need to get of my chest. Read at own risks. It won't be like a story. This will be all over the place. This 'book' will mainly be here to help organise my thoug...
