I walk down the hall if misery. Looking at the photographs of the person I used to be.
I enter a room and shut off the lights. With the blade of my regret I fall to the floor and lift up the sleeves that hid my blank canvas.
As I take the metal brush I dip it intimidating the red paint that rest inside. But before I go any further I stop.
I stop and think.
Think about my life.
My life of ups and downs.
Downs I only now let myself fall to.
With the memory if my standing strong. Full of happiness and life. I rest my head and drop my weapon.
I cry myself to sleep as I smear my last thought out on the floor with my paint.
I will never not be unhappy anymore.
I finish my masterpiece and look down at the words that will last forever.
Lost soul
