I could stand here and count the number of days I've wanted to die,
But what good would that do anybody?
No one here has felt anything less,
Than the deepest depths of pain the human spirit is capable of,
So instead of death,
Let me speak of love.

Not love for myself,
Or love others have had for me,
But a love of the moon and the stars and the sea,
The type of love oxygen makes to your body when you breathe,
And that breath keeps you living,
And I know there's pain in giving,
But the CO2 you let out when you breathe,
Is soaked up so sweetly by the plants and their leaves,
It loves them, the same way oxygen loves you and me,
And with this cycle of love, the world keeps spinning,
And with every breath, we keep living,
And though we take, we keep giving,
Because within you and me is the most basic kind of love,
The Love of Living.