She paints a pretty picture
But the story has a twist
Her paint brush is a razor
And her canvas is her wrist
She paints a pretty picture
In a color thats blood red
While usimg her sharp paint brush
She ends up finally dead
Her pretty pictures fading
Quite slowly on her arm
The blood is not racing through her
She can no longer do harm
She painted her pretty picture
But her picture had a twist
You see her mind was her razor
And her heart was her wrist
YOU ARE READING
She Painted A Pretty Picture
PoesiaThis is probably quiet depressing and triggering but i know alot of people cut and have depression so i did this so others know what could happen
