The girl grips a silver paintbrush
Solid
Cold
Sharp
She looks at herself
Her frown
Her smile
Her tears
Her relief.
She grips it tight
And she struggles
But
She pulls the paintbrush and
Red paint
Thick and warm
Drops onto the world
And leaves it's mark
YOU ARE READING
Painful Truths
PoetryLife asked Death, "Why do people love me but hate you?" and Death replied, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth." (completed) Well. Poems, if you could call them that. Just rambled and rushed night time thoughts. Some of these a...
