She paints a great picture
but it has a twist
Her paint brush is her razor
and her canvass is her wrist;
Blood oozes from her skin,
as her pretty images fade
Art that can't be seen,
but the next day,found her dead
YOU ARE READING
Fragments of An Empty Soul
PoetryCompilation of poems I wrote because of pain and confusion *Some of them consists 4-lined poems Bookcover credits:Wasabe_wasabe
