At your lowest of lows, you offered me your hand, but at the time I was just numb, confused, and didn’t truly understand.

Lonesome, lost, and homeless, I just wanted to run away, and through the dark, out of the blue, you offered me a place to stay.

We hadn’t spoken in a while, and I wasn’t sure if it was right, so I refused your generous offer and continued my solitary fight.

Little did I know, it would be the last time we would speak, when I discovered, not long after that, you’d given in to defeat.

So many questions and thoughts, as to why you never asked for assistance, but I guess that makes for the both of us, not wanting to burden each other’s existence.

Witness to your restful slumber, surrounded by mahogany, and circling though thoughts of how you would feel if it were me.

I guess it got a bit too much, and I wish I was there more to help you, and maybe if I hadn’t been so caught up in my own shit at the time, you wouldn’t have pursued.

How you dredged me out of the darkness, when I was comfortable hiding away, and taught me I could be myself in every single way.

You taught me that no matter how crazy things got, I had to just look after my self, for there was a tiresome journey ahead, illuminated by a clear path, to get me through all the pain that I was dealt.

I guess you saw no other option, no escape, no light, when you climbed up into that tree and surrendered your will to fight.

I miss you my dear friend, and I think about you all the time, haunted by flashbacks of the bruises across your neck, that no amount of makeup could hide.

But I hope you’re resting peacefully now, and I can’t thank you enough, for being one of the reasons why, I hadn’t given up.