FemaleSouth AfricaMember since 26 Nov 15Last online 2 years ago

She paints a pretty picture
But this story has a twist
Her razor is her paint brush
And her canvas is her wrist
In a color that's blood red
While using her sharp paint brush
She ends up finally dead
Her pretty pictures fading
Quite slowly on her arm
The blood is no longer racing through
She can do no more harm
She painted her pretty picture
But the story had a twist
Her brain was her razor
And her canvas was her heart

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