Late at night she paints in deep red colors. The pain doesn't faze her anymore. Her canvas has deep tracks in it from the tip of her brush.
The pain in her life causing such great suffering that she can't hold it in. As many artists do she paints her feelings. Her body is her canvas.
One night she locks the door and pushes the brush further than even. Thick dark red paint flows freely from the new cuts. She watches as the red seeps into her carpet. Its once cream color now a brilliant red.
She is happy that the pain is ending but she feels bad for her parents who will find her blood stained carpet and broken canvas.
She scribbles an apology before finally letting go...
YOU ARE READING
Depression Kills
Randompoems I have written during times of depression... No hate comments please and thank you!!!
