He'd breathe in the smoke,
when he was in pain.
I wanted to be there,
but I couldn't be.

I was pushed away.
Far from his secrets.
He dug deeper and deeper,
to hide the worst from me.

I refused to give up on him.
I wouldn't allow his lungs to fill with smoke,
or his mind to fill with guilt,
or his heart to feel alone.

So I gave him my all,
to show him the feelings were real.
I showed him I wasn't going anywhere.
I was there to stay.

He no longer suffocates in the smoke,
or looks for other ways of release.
I am his personal painkiller,
for as long as he needs me.