The Canvas

She wants to express herself

But she doesn’t know how

So she uses her body as a canvas

And her own fingernails as the brush

The emotions are overwhelming

Her brain goes foggy

Nothing makes sense

That’s when the picture is painted

A pretty little image

Illustrated using only the color red

After the paint dries

The picture becomes rough to the touch

And the vibrant red that once shone

Turns to a deep maroon

As time passes by

The maroon starts to fade

A soft pink begins to show

The surface turns smooth again

Until the demons return

And another image dirties the canvas

Reviews

[Death's Poet]

Yet again, beautifully written and briming with raw emotion. This poem for sure made me feel something. I just wanted to reach out and hug the girl and try to console her. Self harm is such a sad topic to write about, especially with such emotion put into it so bravo to you. The imagery is amazing, you can practially see the poor girl. Absolutely amazing. Consider me a fan

[K. Bridgid]

Thank you again. Your comments have made me feel better about my writing! I really love making people able to feel something, so hearing that from a great writer like you is incredible. Thank you so much!