Her blank canvas
Empty, but promising
To become something good

But her masterpiece took an evil turn

She used only one tool
Strokes of only deep reds
Letting the paint drop to the floor
Where it would then stain

She hid her canvas
Until the deep reds had faded to pinks and purples

Then she unveiled it to the world

It wasn't a masterpiece.
It wasn't a piece of art.
It wasn't beautiful.

It was ugly.
It was disgusting.
It was horrific.

No one liked it.
Except for her.
So she decided to continue filling the canvas

This time experimenting
Different tools
Yet still the only color she used was red

She went days
Weeks
Months
Years
Adding to her canvas
Until one day

She couldn't

Her canvas no longer meant anything to her

So instead, she burned it

That last piece of cake
The one that everyone wants
You could have gotten a piece before it was all gone
But you waited until the last second
And then it vanished

They all wanted that piece
They wanted to save it
But someone rudely took it away
Just like that

Then, a new cake was made
Fresh with perfection
And that last piece of cake was forgotten

*Just like I was

How can her smile be so bright
While her heart is so dark?
How can there be a twinkle in her eyes
While her body is full of marks?

Everyone could love you
But you wouldn't care
You don't love yourself

They could think you were beautiful
But it doesn't matter
To you, the scars say something else

They could think you were happy
But they'd be wrong
They can't see past your practiced smile

They can't see inside you
Where everything is dark
*And the disease controls your every move

When you tell me
You don't want help
I get scared

I don't know how much longer
You have
Before it's too late

I want so desperately
For you to get the help
You truly need

Because the less you say you need help
The more you really need it

Trust me
I know
And I will do what it takes to keep you safe

Even if that means losing you as a friend

Because not being your friend to keep you alive
Is better than wishing I could have helped
From beside your grave

Just smile and say
"No really, I am ok"
Underneath, you cry

Why do I always fall in love
With the one who is taken
Or who hates me
Or who doesn't even know I exist?

Love is a puzzle, that I have yet to figure out.