You took a brush soaked deep in red,
And painted it across a canvas of my life,
The ink bled through like every word youve ever said,
It brutal, abusive, and suffocated me to death.
A murky black was all I saw,
Before the picture was forever put to rest,
Ember flames burned through the thin covering
While you lit the canvas skin,
My voice was lost, and quiet inside the smoke that was hovering.
And through it all you were there your eyes,
Ill never forget their stare,
Nothing but big empty, pools of putrid, deceitful lies.
The last thing that caught my eye was the very brush that dyed my life,
Before I was lost, I suddenly realized,
It was not a brush but actually a knife.
