Thoughts

Cuts to Scars

My arms a canvas

This blade a brush

At that moment I become the best artist to live

At that moment red is the only colour that my brain can recognize

My skin ripped open as if a kid is opening up their Christmas present

But instead of a toy, all I see is the sadness in my soul that I pray would escape

I never knew how painful and how beautiful the colour red could be.

A crimson river flows out of my paper thin skin

Thicker than anything I've ever seen

Everyone always said that blood is thicker than water but my blood was something else

The blood that ran down my arm was so much more than blood

So much more than anything