she stares at the bottle of pills
sitting calmly on the table
as she picks up a paintbrush
and begin her painting

her choice of colour was red
always shocking red
her canvas was smooth
smooth as a baby's skin they say

but no one will ever know
the days she spent locked up
in her room painting
her life away

that her canvas was her skin
the paintbrush was the blade
the choice of colour was her blood
and she couldn't stop