Special

She drinks poison like it were wine,
were wine to drink and wine for laughter
wine to clink in crystal glasses,
poison that she drinks like wine.

She seeks solace, comfort, home
home that she's lost as not before
she left herself inside that glass
that glass of poison that she drinks.

I am not an antidote,
no hands of mine can cure for this cause bare,
and as I hug myself at home
she tears herself apart.

She tears herself apart.

I picture poison, dripping
from her luscious lips like blood
a smile slowly forming as her beautiful eyes stray closed.

She smiles as she drinks,
she smiles as she drinks.

Harm
the human blisters in the light of disappointment
alas, alack, and woe
that she was not all she wanted to be--
she was to me.

Does she know that she is beautiful?
Does she know that she is strong?
Does she know that she is courage,
courage hanging on the wall?

The poison that she drinks
has only one antidote:
love and self-respect.

I love you, Katie. I really, really do.