There was a girl lying on the floor,
she was covered in blood,
her skin sliced by his blades.

There was a girl lying on the floor,
she was covered in bruises,
her skin tarnished by his fists.

There was a girl lying on the floor,
dead and ruined.

She was ruined by what she thought was love,
and killed, by the man she thought loved her.

but he didn’t love her, he loved his canvases.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was lying on the floor.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was covered in red,
painted by his blades.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was covered in blue,
painted by his fists.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was ruined, and overused.

He needed to get a new one,
since he loved painting so much.

He always had a smile on while painting his canvases.

Someone’s talking

I see
their lips
moving

But
at the same time
I dont.

My mind
is telling me
they aren’t real.

But
they’re right there

Aren’t they?

i think my soul is starting to wilt,
just like my roses.

i think im dying.
dying, just like my poor roses

i dont think i'll make it.
i wish i could just see my roses one last time.

what happened?
my roses, theyre all wilting

i dont understand,
they were fine just yesterday

was it yesterday?
i dont remember.

i cant remember anything.

who am i?

what happened to my roses?

I looked in the mirror.

Who
is
that?

I looked at my hands.

There was
blood
on them.

I looked at my legs.

I saw
more
blood.

I looked at the floor.

even
more
blood

I heard a scream.

But it wasnt me.
It was the girl
in the mirror.