She loved to paint
She didn't paint roses and flowers
Her art had a twist
Her skin was the canvas and blade was her painting stick.
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryMy mother told me about falling in love, and that you have to be carefully But that day I came home with a smile on my face smelling like you sweatshirt and the cigarette you smoke I knew right then and there that I have already fallen to deep, and...
Canvas
She loved to paint
She didn't paint roses and flowers
Her art had a twist
Her skin was the canvas and blade was her painting stick.
