"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 read
While using her sharp paint brush,
She ends up finally dead,
Her pretty picture 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."
Shes hurting why can no one see that. She's begging for help. Why can you not see that? Sometimes no sign is a sign. All she wanted was to be helped. And hurting herself was the only way she knew how. However, she was that fun loving girl who always had a smile on her face. That was friends with everyone. Yea that girl. That girl was in so much pain.
YOU ARE READING
There Comes a Time
CasualeJust shit that goes on in my life. And i just need to get it out. And frankly, I don't care if anyone judges or thinks im being dramatic. It is what it is. So this is gonna be a journal thing. I'm gonna write whats going on. And im also gonna put...
