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Hannah Presley Aug 2016
She paints a pretty picture
An artist, one of a kind.
Paints with only shades of red,
all of them straight lines.
She paints a pretty picture
But her canvas is out of space.
She wants to look beautiful,
"The dress, mom, I need it to be lace"
She paints a pretty pictures
But here's the twist,
He paint brush is a razor
Her canvas is her wrist.
She wants to make it stop.
She's running out of time
It's not just on her body,
But always on her mind.
She paints a pretty picture,
She wishes it would end
She wants to just give it up,
If only she had a friend.
She paints a pretty picture,
This time it's too deep.
She's finally given up,
"My soul now you can keep"
Hannah Presley Mar 2016
What do I say?
What do I say when you look at my arms?
Yours are you beautifully bare and smooth.
But your eyes fall onto mine
The cross-stitch of red and white lines. Raised
Painting the pain I’ve been through across my skin.
What do I say?
What do I say when you see my panic?
You stand there and you look at me, not knowing what to do.
I sit, clutching my knees to my chest,
Tears pouring down my eyes,
Body trembling.
What do I say?
What do I say when you tell me it’s all too much?
When you tell me you can’t deal with it anymore.
That you need to leave my life,
That you can’t handle it.
As if you assume I can.
What do I say?**
What do I say when I no longer have someone to say things to?

— The End —