It's hard to watch
the most brilliant woman
I have ever known slip away.

It is hard to watch her struggle to breath,
to see her too weak to sit upright,
exhausted by eating incredibly small portions of food.

It is hard to explain to her the confusion
that she experiences when waking up from sleep,
confused between her dreams and reality.

It is hard to listen to her tell us the things she sees,
which aren't real, as she obsesses needlessly over small things,
her hallucinations becoming apparent.

It is hard to hear her say
that she just wants to go,
because this is no way to live.

What is hardest, however, is knowing
that as hard as it is to witness,
it has to be much harder being her,
experiencing it.