Her eyes pierce you
like the knife pierces her skin
the tears that run down your face
from her words
resemble the blood that runs down her arms
from you words.
her heart being strangled,
with her own feelings.
He forced her to paint,
she had no choice.
But he didn't know about her paintings.
She hid them.
Her arms the canvas,
her brush the blade,
her paint the blood.
YOU ARE READING
Stripes
PoetryMany will relate, and that's what saddens me the most♥ -Not a copy, original story-
