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Oct 2013
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.
Iqmal
Written by
Iqmal
546
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