The Outcast

Based on a very dark time in my own life.

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2. The Pictures

I paint a pretty

Picture, channeling loneliness, hate

Anger, insignificance.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, releasing the pain

Inside, getting revenge on

Myself.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, whenever I see

The hurt of those

That I love. And

Its my fault.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, whenever those words

Are yelled. Freak. Loner.

Outcast.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, whenever I see

The effect that I

Have on people - I

Am a curse on

All those who dare

To get close to

Me.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, using only one

Colour. Red, just red,

The colour of hate.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture, horizontal and vertical

Lines, lines that sometimes

Spell out words. Freak.

Curse. Hated. Nothing. Outcast.

 

I paint a pretty

Picture. But my brush

Is a razor blade,

My paint is my

Blood, and my canvas

Is my wrist.

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