You cried when you told me;
Your eyes had so many things they wanted to say:
You cried when I reached out to hold your hand;
Your mind couldn't process it, not even the touch of a loved one.

You told me the vile things the slug did to your body;
You noticed I couldn't look you in the eye a few lines into the story;
You cried bitterly and my heart broke in many places;
You know, broke is the wrong word.

I felt like I was an onion and someone was grating me;
I still feel that way each time I see the slug, hear him or even hear of him;
I begged you to report him or at least tell your parents;
I gave up on that when you screamed "No" the 79th time I asked.

We didn't tell your parents about our numerous trips to the hospital.
We didn't tell the nurses the details because you said it was nobody's business;
We didn't tell your mum about the panic attacks you still have.

You cried your way into sickness that night, I listened;
You knew I cried too, its one of those things we don't talk about;
Your demeanor changed, your care free spirit gave way to something...