oops, there goes my paint stuck to my hands, arms, skin heart. all the way upwards, it fills my eyes, my room i can't see. i can't it's stuck everywhere. i can't get it off of me i bleed it, it stains how i despise paint it pours from broken dolls, homes, books, stories. maybe that could change...? a canvas of hope and thought, and my very own paint. I can change my hurt all the pinpricks, echoing pain I feel become stars. I can make stars with my paint..?
