her skin is cracked, raw and bleeding
looking at it, I wish
there was something I could do.
she wishes it too, I know.
at night I watch her
bandages and ointments
trying to relieve the pain of life.
I’ve gained a new respect for her,
as she goes through the daily ritual
of harming, then healing,
knowing that with every step forward
she takes three back.
but she's somehow not giving up,
or in, for our sakes.
in a way, the cracks and lines
are her battle scars,
showing the world the strength in her heart
and showing me, too
what it means to be brave
and to endure the pain that comes
with unconditional love.
12/14/98