Black and blue on her hair. The colors bleed into each other. Her skin a white gold. The drops of paint fall into the canvas. A black line for her eyelash and white reflections of light. One stroke, it paints. Black on brown on white in the shape of an almond and her eyes reflect a shadow, green and red wilting rose. Red for her nose, cold, hurting. Pale pink paints onto the lips. White falls over them, thin layer that kills the soft color. Red cracks like hairs from the center to the edges like blood over the white paint. A line of white seals the lips together. Red they bleed from the words that cannot be uttered. The red smears into her cheeks and swirls through them. Matches her nose. Cold to the touch. Thick black climbs over her neck and over her body. Gray shadows and raw texture. A drop of red in the chest. It slides down the black. Another drop. Another. Puddle of blood melts into the black. Gray over her nose and cheeks to form her skeletal frame. Red cracks spread over her lips and bleed to her chin. White in her eyes turns yellow and the red cracks grow into it. Red falls from her chest and into the edge of the canvas. She breathes. Her lips can only bleed. No colors but white and black and red. It blinds her. It kills her.

 

Slash.

A knife through her lips.

Stab.

A knife in her heart.

Rip.

The canvas breaks into two.

Stained pieces of cloth fall.

 

A new canvas. A drop of gold.

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