Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
they come in all different shapes and sizes.
Some are deeper, thicker.
They release emotions.
Art, made from your own blood.

Blades, knives, scissors.
So many paint brushes.
Legs, arms, wrists.
So many canvases.

Pain soon becomes release.
Its a silent addiction.
No need to brag.
Little Wing
Written by
Little Wing
Please log in to view and add comments on poems