"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 thats blood red while using her sharp paintbrush she ends up finally dead

her pretty pictures fading quite slowly on her arm the blood is not racing through her she can no longer do harm

she painted her pretty picture but her picture had a twist you see her mind was the razor and...

No.
Nope.
Nu-uh.
No.
I refuse.
........
Okay, I give up!
It is takeing too much energy for me to smile.
So, no more fake Hope. I'm just not going to smile or laugh anymore.

Everyone will ask questions. It will be such a burden. But I will ignore their silly questions, and their obstructive thoughts behind my back.

Goodbye, smile.
Don't come back soon.

I miss him.
Still.
After all this time.
After all this pain.
Something is wrong with me.
I'm still cutting.
I'm still throwing up my food.
I have been getting kicked out of house a lot lately, and I don't cre, I actually hope and pray that I freeze to death.
I am such a failure.
I stopped trying.
I gave up.
I couldn't help it...
I was being driven to insantity.
So, here I am.
With scars all over my...