he stood in class
drowned by lust.
his wrist was the canvas
the razor was the paintbrush.
he had the colours around him
the colours that spills and
finishes when you need them.
but he wants to paint
and so he did.
he started to paint
the most absolute picture seen
to the ones around
self harm
to him
he was merely
a painter.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 5:04 AM UTC
he stood in class
drowned by lust.
his wrist was the canvas
the razor was the paintbrush.
he had the colours around him
the colours that spills and
finishes when you need them.
but he wants to paint
and so he did.
he started to paint
the most absolute picture seen
to the ones around
self harm
to him
he was merely
a painter.
