The Truth Behind One's Eyes

She paints a pretty picture
But
her paint brush is her blade
and
her canvas is her own wrists
Blood and Tears
they paint her beautiful skin, stain her fresh cloths
her cheeks turn red as the blood that drips,
drips, drips
her eyes struggle to stay open not from the pain of the cuts she has enflicted more times then once
But
the pain of the voices, loud bangs, and screams that eco her dreams
never cease to end that never go quiet
this is her life
this is who she has become
this is who she is