To give me a voice is to give a flower to the wind.
To help me create beauty out of pain was unexpected, but I say thanks and thanks again. Though I do not know you anymore I sometimes close my eyes and hear your voice beyond the door. I remember whispers of better tomorrows and your lips faintly kissing the day away from my wearied cheek.
Though I do not know you anymore your ghosts live around me. They are there when I cannot breathe and push me further down, but recognizing their mistake they are the hand that helps me off the ground. They feed my darkest demons yet encourage my wildest dreams.
No longer do we speak, but your words are etched within my veins. Every wound screams like you while the beating in my ribcage echoes songs sung softly in your sweet tenor.
We do not go a day apart. Your actions stand firmly in my mind and your promises weave in and out of my heart.
To ask for a change would strip me of skin, muscle, and bone leaving nothing but an empty soul and meaningless name without a home.
No matter how hard I try I cannot relearn a language that has been ossified.
No matter how hard I try I cannot forget the eloquence of walking and running for the first time.
To step with brand new feet, to speak with a brand new tongue, is something that cannot be done.
I can remodel and refine this body and this mind, but traces of you will linger my friend.
To make another understand that I cannot love without loving you is to turn my life on end. And though I do not know you anymore this voice that you have made for me will send that flower flying over the seven seas.
Though I do not know you anymore I thank you for making me free.