Izzy's poem is a raw, quiet admission of self-hatred. The speaker says it is hard to love themselves when "you" don't love them, so their sense of worth seems to depend on another person's approval. Even when they feel a little bigger or stronger, they snap back to the same person they always were, convinced they can't change.
The poem then turns to a painful kind of surrender. The speaker tells "you" to go on living, to be the person they want to be, and even to "take my life for your own." The last lines sound almost like a cold calculation: the "perfect one" lives, the "messed up one" dies. The speaker ranks themselves as the worse version and accepts being erased.
The mood is heavy, resigned, and lonely. Short, plain lines make it feel like someone speaking flatly after they've stopped fighting. The title's "better for the worse" suggests a trade in which the speaker's loss is treated as a gain for someone else.