You have eyes the color of deer fur,
and angelic lips, salmon colored lips
that I used to kiss and worship
like they were gods. I prayed to them.
You had the spirit of a rebel,
the mind of an artist,
and were trapped in a body in which
you didn't belong.
I loved you.
You were weakened by your past,
by the abuse that made you bleed.
Your best friend was the agony that you kept beside you,
that flared up and burned away when you
tried to live.
I encouraged you.
You were too far gone, you said.
Made a noose. The agony returned,
worse than you thought it ever would be.
You took my hatred and made it whole.
I still loved you.
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