lots of slits are there,

some on dresses, while some on paper,

some again on our hands

my favourite one, don't you like?

the charismatic red liquid dripping

makes it look like the best painting,

ever created, ever seen;

one hell of a unique monochromatic painting,

the veins floating without, not within,

purplish and black vapours

mingling with the red blood and the white skin,

visualizing the pain, pressure and promises

we once cared about;

and now

how people just say

"oh, they are just acting to be termed 'depressed' "

if we keep mum in public places;

those slits say and show

how much far we'll have to go,

as those little lines on our skin

can't give us death,

when we were created to stay alive,

it's our only FATE.