Bright eyed girl
She loves to paint
She smiles at the world
Seems free from hate
The paint is a comfort
The brush is her friend
Its the only thing she knows
Will be there until the end
As she paints her feelings
It all pours out
Its her way of living
All the colors shout
Streaks of paint run down her arms
She thinks that it can do no harm
Hiding behind the papers white gleam
Together they make a deadly team
For here's the secret
She'll always hide
Forever etched
into her mind:
She may be an artist
But this story has a twist
Her paintbrush is a razor
Her canvas is her wrist.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 1:26 PM UTC
Bright eyed girl
She loves to paint
She smiles at the world
Seems free from hate
The paint is a comfort
The brush is her friend
Its the only thing she knows
Will be there until the end
As she paints her feelings
It all pours out
Its her way of living
All the colors shout
Streaks of paint run down her arms
She thinks that it can do no harm
Hiding behind the papers white gleam
Together they make a deadly team
For here's the secret
She'll always hide
Forever etched
into her mind:
She may be an artist
But this story has a twist
Her paintbrush is a razor
Her canvas is her wrist.