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Red Paint
Category: Writing and Poetry
It was midnight, the clouds covered the moon and I was lying in my bed looking into nothingness, it wasn't hours ago that I grabbed a brush and watercolors, specifically a red one. I delicately ran the brush on my wrist as raindrops fell down my face. There were cracks in my crystal body, parts of my body were missing. I didn't feel complete, I just begged to feel. I just wanted to feel. » Continue Reading