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She Paints A Pretty Picture

*THIS IS NOT MY POEM. I just think it's an amazing poem and I wanted to share it with others!*

She paints a pretty picture,
But this picture has a twist;
You see, her paintbrush is a razor,
And her canvas is her wrist.
She paints her pretty picture
In a color that's blood red,
While using her sharp paintbrush,
She finally ends up dead.
Her pretty pictures fading
Quite slowly on her arm.
The blood is no longer running through her,
She can do no more harm.
She painted her pretty picture,
But her picture had a twist;
You see, her mind was the razor,
And her heart was just her wrist. 
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Poetry.com 4.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Colleen Ruiz More than 1 year ago
i wish i wrote this!!!! ugh!! dammit! this is beautiful. you are the best
Olivia Lee More than 1 year ago
just want to make sure you know that I didn't write this one! Just really like this poem and I wanted to share it with someone.
Torgaut Gulliksen More than 1 year ago
Whatever happened to idealism. Like it though it scares me.
Sammer Ghouleh More than 1 year ago
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