Pretty Pictures..

She paints such pretty pictures,
with just one little twist.
A knife as her paint-brush,
and she paints them on her wrist.

The red paint is her blood,
all over her bedroom wall.
She feels so un protected,
like she was never known at all.

The pain is never ending,
and she\'s slipping off the edge.
She hopes you find her letter,
she left on her window ledge.

She paints such pretty pictures,
with just one little twist.
A knife as her paint-brush,
and she paints them on her wrist.