Poem #14

21 4 16
                                    



Knives are brushes

Blood the paint

Her heart, her skin

The canvas

Trying to be free

Knowing she can't 

She's trying to stop

But this was her only

Talent

Painting

Painting herself

And her knife cuts

Her blood flows

Her tears stream

Her heart stops

Her lungs end

Until all she is

After all

Death

All about......MEWhere stories live. Discover now