I had a friend whom I loved,
but she bedded with a beast.
The beast would beat her regularly,
twice daily at the least.

I begged her and I pleaded her,
“Please leave the beast today.”
No matter how I reasoned, though,
she said there was no way.

She said that she was happy there,
said she was in control,
said she wasn't being ****** into
the terrible black hole.

“Think about your kids,” I said,
“They need their mom to win
this battle with the pills that seem
to always draw you in.”

The sparkle in her eyes went dim,
her laughter sounded forced.
Every visit with her left my
worst fears reinforced.

Finally, I stood my ground,
said that she had to choose.
I thought I'd given her a path
that she could not refuse.

Alas, she chose the pills instead
of keeping me a friend,
this woman that I thought would be
my sister 'til the end.

She kicked me out, she carved me out,
she shut me out and then,
she denied me when I reached out for her
time and time again.

There was a time, however,
when she could not tell me no.
I was there to give her flowers
on her final trip solo.

I stood there at her graveside,
tears streaming down my face,
watching doves fly skyward
at her final resting place.