Wild eyes
manic grin
she was fighting a battle
she could not win
I saw no more
of her old self
she broke our gaze and
looked at the shelf
she grabbed her favorite book
The House of Leaves
and read to me a quote
as I looked at her sleeves
They were slipping up
revealing the skin
she broke with every self-perceived sin.

With a broken heart
I began to cry and beg
and through blurry eyes
asked her to hate me instead
for she was too fragile
too broken
too sad
too lovely
to feel so bad.