Am I worth all you gave me?

When you found this limp body

You were trying to save a lost cause.

A girl stripped of her sanity,

looking for a cliff to fall off.

You read all my novels

but I was left unjudged.

Turned every page

despite the paper cuts.

You broke down my grand grey castle,

breathed in the debris,

watched each brick crack

to set a butterfly free.

Followed me to the forest,

caught my silly dance,

you let me trace the water lilies

and held off my horrid past.

Lighting your last match to burn my logs,

saving me from ungraceful falls

offer your hand

for me to clutch

but is it worth trying to save me?

I thank you

for the hand-knitted sweaters,

raspberries in the pancake batter,

your stinging stubble

and lips as soft as snow

but am I worth all you gave me?

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A/N: It took me a full week to get this poem on paper and get it to make sense so I really hope you like it.

The painting is 'La Jeune Martyre'  by the French painter, Paul Delaroche.