Cutting. Suicide
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One thin slice and only one, one last time and then I’m done.Blood soon beads and spills out red. Five more seconds and I’ll be dead.“I don’t want this,” I try to say.I don’t want my life to end this way.
She paints a pretty picture
But this one with a twist,
The paint brush a razor and the canvas her wrist.
She paints a pretty picture
Everyone comes from somewhere
You came from a mother with arms wide open offering you love and care and well my origin was not so nice and fluffy.
I had no mother just a maker who crafted me from metal and wood
