I have never thanked you,
for the conversations.

I have never thanked you,
for the smile.

I have never thanked you,
for asking me how i'm really doing.

I have never thanked you,
for staying alive.

Thank you,
thank you.

Sometimes I wake up startled in the middle of the night,
Because I dreamed of a hand around my neck so tight.
Withholding air from my body,
But as I dart my eyes I see nobody.
Instinctively I try and fight it off,
But I end up with a deeper heave and cough.
It takes a minute, two or nine,
To realize the choking hand is mine.