KAH

I hate that my love can't save.
I hate that I have to watch people hurt and kick and scream and die inside before they reach for the Ones Love that can
She inhales life through pipes and fumes. Exhaling her existence and seeing it as a whole, not as a single heart dying to be found.
But she knows where she is, right? She understands that this life she's living is full of filth. And she's fucking terrified, but more thrilled than anything else. And she lies to loved ones. Laying down friendships that she'll never see again. People change, even if she decides to stay the same. People move on, even if she can't let go. And she's left in the dust, and rightfully so.
But oh my God, why can't I save her? Oh my God, why won't she turn? Oh my God, why won't she stay? My words fall flat because she's made up her mind, but I don't stop speaking. My words fall flat because she's made up her mind, and understands that her mind is corrupt and causing her slow death. She knows this. Her face is not the same. Her heart is barely recognizable and I'm hating watching her be destroyed.
But what can I do? If my love can't save her? Love is the strongest weapon I have, it's the biggest, most valuable thing I can give. And I give it to her. I pour it out to her. She repels it.
I can't make her love herself. I can't make her let go. I can't lock her up and keep her safe. No, I fucking can't. It's not in my power and I hate it.
It's been up and down for years and years and I can't get her to stabilize. Consuming herself in her own sickness. Manipulating life to form to her body. She releases connections and labels everything. Understanding that labels don't make things what they're labeled.
I want to see her healthy again. But I'm afraid we've not seen the worst of her.
Mercy, oh God.
I embrace her, and I'm loving a ghost. I kiss her, I'm kissing a killer. I speak to her, and she hears and seers a different way.
She gets it but won't hold it. Fucking hold it. Drop your shit and hold what's worth it.
But you won't, will you? You'll continue to pursue death before you accept the light. Why?
Art screams liberation from all that she does.
What the hell is missing?
This isn't about me, but I'm involved. She can lie to me, I don't care. She can run from me, I don't care. She can do whatever she wants-but I'm here. I'm here for her and forever for her, if she lets me.
She's letting her demons become bigger than me in her life, already. I'll soon be pushed out. I can feel it. I know it's coming. And I hate it and refuse to accept it, but I understand it.
Why must rockbottom be the only way to convince people of truth?
She doesn't recognize influence, does she? Not mine, anyways.
I know what to do, but I'm just not sure if it's the right-est thing I could do.
I would hand her the world, if she asked for it. Brilliance is mans biggest curse. It roots stupidity and ruins us.
Imagination has died. Faith has lost value. There's nothing to believe anymore, says the world.
Robotic, we try and make ourselves. But Darling, we have hearts-so it's impossible.

Journey ahead, she'll likely walk alone. I can't go through the wilderness with her. I choose safety and life. She chooses woods of well known hells and fears that devour.

Save.

But I am here. Jesus is here, just turn around.