An Artist In My Ways

I am an artist
But I am nothing ordinary
I am quite different
And do things eccentricly

I don’t use brushes
Nor pencils to sketch
My work can never be undone
But leaves scars in lieu

Instead of those
I use a blade
To slice my skin
With blood I paint

I am an artist
My ways are peculiar
My blade is my tool
And skin is my canvas

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