I didn’t ask why-
those beautiful lips of yours turned
black; your jaw a right angle,
eyes something not even remotely
resembling a shape:
Put down the pills, pills,
pill,
please.

I didn’t ask why-
your skin was a canvas,
when I had plenty of paper
to offer.
You saw the world in pieces,
and I saw the world only
through you.
I watched you bloom in spring and
go dormant in winter;
I served you as my master and
as your doormat
I loved in colors, you saw
black and white –

you offered me no paper.

I bled through phone calls,
I carved you into the walls
with my fingernails –

You saw the world in pieces,
I saw the world only through you
I became pieces,
and you changed your view.