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 colour that's blood red
While using her sharpest paint brush
She ends up finally dead
Her pretty pictures fading
Quite slowly in 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
In too deep -Depression and selfharm
PoetryA collection of poems and quotes about self harm ,suicide ,anxiety and depression . Number 14 in poetry -Jul 2016 Number 11 In poetry -August 2016
