Novel & Cerita Bloody Canvas Lyrics

I said to Nick "Oh, you think?" He said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at him which I know he couldn't see because of the pitch dark setting. Turned around and walk towards where we came from. Once we reached the room where the dead body was, I decided to look around for a bit. Bits of dried blood were still on the floor and a big stain was where the bloody puddle was. As I shone my flashlight across the room something catches my eye from the very far end of the room on the wall. I walked closer. As I walked closer and closer, I have a better looked at it. It was something written. As I walk closer and It hit me. The stench of blood filled the area. It was written in a different language th

*He gave me kindling when I was just smoke* *She gave me purpose when I was just broke* *Together we're building* *A fire that's true* *Not for the cameras* *Just me loving you* I sang the final verse with everything I had. Every ounce of pain and triumph and refusal to disappear. *So tell them I'm over* *Tell them I'm done* *Tell them Nova Black died* *When she chose to run* *But I'll still be here* *Making my art* *A mother, a fighter* *A flame in the dark* *They thought I was ruined* *They thought I was through*

My world splashed across canvases I’d painted in stolen hours, in shadows, never meaning for them to leave the safety of my studio. “I can’t believe you almost skipped this,” Calla whispered, tugging me toward the nearest wall where a cluster of people leaned in close, murmuring over a painting. My painting. “Asa, look at them. They love it.” I wanted to melt into the floor. The faces on the canvas ,distorted, smeared in deep tones of red and black, weren’t supposed to be seen like this. They weren’t meant to be understood. They were nightmares, bottled.

I burst through the double doors into the main gallery space and come skidding to a halt. The white sheet that had covered my painting earlier now lies in a heap on the floor, revealing the artwork beneath. It depicts a circle of children holding hands, playing ring around the rosie. Werewolf pups swirl around their legs. All are smiling. All are happy. It was meant to be a statement. One of hope, of happiness, of peace. But now, that message is obliterated. Someone has thrown what looks like a bucket of blood over the canvas. Thick, crimson liquid drips down the children’s faces, pools in their outstretched hands, stains their clothes.

❤❤❤❤❤ ♪♪♪♪♪♪“Let out hearts stop and beat as one forever Draw me a smile and save me tonight I am a blank page waiting for you to bring me to life Paint me a heart, let me be your art I am a blank page waiting for life to start itself.”♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪ ★★BELLA★★

But you see, it’s not me It’s not my family In your head, in your head, they are fighting With their tanks, and their bombs And their bombs, and their guns In your head, in your head, they are crying In your head, in your head Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie What’s in your head, in your head Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh Sophia Blanc sang into the mic, her voice booming from the speakers in the club. Behind her Mike, Stella, Rosa and Nate played the instruments.

The groom mounting the bride on a throne of corpses. My hand moved faster than my mind. I dipped the brush deeper, harder, tearing at the canvas like I was cutting flesh. I mixed the reds and blacks until they bled together, thick and viscous. The eyes I painted stared back, wide and lifeless. The flowers were rotting. The sky dripped gore. A massacre. And I smiled. They wanted a masterpiece? I’d give them one they’d never forget.

"I want to go home!" One of the hoods moves as a council member signals something to someone on my right. I turn in time to see broad shoulders too close to have time to run. The light flickers upon a silver blade. My mouth opens to scream in dismay, but nothing comes out. Why? As I touch my throat, my fingers are bathed in a warm, thick liquid. A fine line along my neck ignites a pang of pain. I raise my hands only to discover they are painted in red. My muscles aren't mine to control anymore. My body falls to one side, blood pumping out of my neck as I suffocate and choke.

He didn't need to do that. "We'll start with one you know," he finished, catching my eye with a tiny, sideways grin. "This is 'Bloody Blooms.'" An excited cheer went up. A crowd pleaser. We were the entertainment, after all. Sy tapped his knuckles against the body of his guitar, a wordless count-in. One, two, three, four… This time I couldn't let the first verse go by without letting my voice join with his. Every beat was precious. I opened my mouth in perfect unison with him, bursting into the lyrics,

I turn it over, I turn it over I loved and I loved and I lost you I loved and I loved and I lost you I loved and I loved and I lost you And it hurts like hell -Cut by Plumb I’m not a stranger No, I am yours With crippled anger And tears that still drip sore A fragile flame aged With misery And when our eyes meet I know you’ll see I do not want to be afraid I do not want to die inside just to breathe in I’m tired of feeling so numb Relief exists I find it when I am cut I may seem crazy Or painfully shy And these scars wouldn’t be so hidden If you would just look me in the eye I feel alone here and cold here Though I don’t want to die But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills i