MY ONE SHOTS

Asphyxiate

+.The paintbrush was the razor,
the canvas were her wrists.
Slightly pushed down the brush,
didn't even realized that her art was all over her.

She cried as she looked at her body,
of spilled artwork everywhere.
Silently crying in a room filled with nobody,
trying hard to gasp for air.

She stood at a high edge,
not thinking that her masterpiece affected others.
All of her artwork turned into a sketch,
adjusting the key to end all of her suffers.

She looked around,
thinking that there was someone who'd disrupt.
Red paints from her masterpiece dripped on the ground,
all of her oxygen has been sucked.

Her feet was left lying in the air,
pale hands and blue lips was seen.
She foresaw that no one would care,
about a dying girl who just turned fifteen.