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She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist her paint brush was a razor and her canvas is her wrist she paints her pretty picture in a color that's blood red while using her sharp paint brush she ends up finally dead her pretty picture fading quite slowly on her arm the bloods not racing through her she can no longer do harm she paints a pretty picture but her picture has a twist you see, her mind was a razor and her heart was her wrist
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