Pretty Picture
She’s a sick girl,
Watching her life unfurl.
It rolls out before her eyes,
She sees each and every lie.
She paints a pretty picture,
So clear and vivid.
Her paintbrush is her razor
And her canvas is her skin.
Her ghost wont leave her be,
They haunt her day and night.
She tries to escape and be free,
But that’s an impossible sight.
So she paints a pretty picture,
So awful and horrific,
Happiness isn’t for her,
She’s destined to be sick.
Her mind is a roller coaster,
Whipping her emotions to and fro.
There’s one thing she knows for sure,
This life has took it’s toll.
She paints a pretty picture,
And slashes one unforgiving vein.
Blood seeps from her,
Leaving her weak, in undeniable pain.
But to her, it’s seen as peace.
Peace in her unbearable mind,
Her ultimate release
It’s only a matter of time,
And her body will lie limp,
While her spirit continues floating on,
She’ll never be content,
Cause agony only lasts as long,
As you allow it to control of you.
She let it make its home,
And even welcomed it too.
It’s the only thing she knows.
She let it burrow in her,
Deep, down, into her soul.
It controlled her entire world.
She felt the chill in her bones.
So she painted a pretty picture,
She could’ve saved herself.
But she was lost in fear,
And in that she dwelled.
Until she was no longer able to save,
And with that she painted her grave.
She painted a pretty picture,
So clear and so vivid.
She painted her life’s scripture,
Painted until it all ended.
—WordsOfAFallenAngel
