She is an artist, but there is a twist.
Her paintbrush is her razor and her canvas is her skin.
She does this to feel pain, otherwise she just feels so plain.
People look at her as a freak, but really she's on the break.
Almost over the edge, but there is something holding her back.
There is someone who knows how she feels,
She may not be an artist, but she is in the same ordeal.
She's on the break of falling over.
But she pulls herself up right.
Makes it through her days.
Her expressions may be fake.
But they are not that far from real.
But she is there to help.
So no one goes over the edge.
( A/N ) Sorry if it started like my other one. At the time I was zoned out when I wrote this. But I read over it and decided to post it. If you don't like it then suck it. Also if you don't like how I write or find it dressing stop reading then delete the story. Because sadness is all that runs through my brain. Behind the walls I built to keep my safe from falling.
-Lean
