I can not be a fair partner, the hurt runs too deep.
When it comes to the surface, everyone I’ve ever loved tells me it’s okay.
Tells me that I am worth it on my bad days
That I have given them new eyes to see the world and for that they are not going away.
…
But these eyes aren’t some holy cross or some treasured stone.
These eyes were carved by a broken ******* a bathroom floor with a knife in her hand.
These eyes were widdled down, prodded at and poked until they could see the beauty through the pain.
They are not some magical power I possess, merely one of survival.
…
When the waters thrash and you’d rather sink than swim,
When you want to let the weight of the world bury you, leaving no survivors,
You look for any reason to stay.
You have to notice the wind whispering to stay in the grass
The sun gleaming on the fields
The babble of a creek
The smile lines of your grandma
The laughs of a baby
When every fiber of your being is begging to be pulled from this world you need to recognize all the small things begging you to stay.
So, I can not be fair.
I can’t give what you give.
I can give you new eyes to see the world  in all its beauty, but I can’t shake the pain that comes with it.
So we sit here, you hold my hand while I hold my pain.