You were a simple soul.
Not that you were simple:
You were simple in your complexity.
And tragic.
And divine in your tragedy.
To indulge in the destructive... Was bliss.
To indulge in the tragedy,
The confusing tumult of emotion
Drowning out any hint of clarity,
... Was bliss.

Until it became suffocating.

And I, longing for air, for sense, I climbed out.
But you, consumed, indulging,
Reveling in the intoxication of it all,
In the danger,
You were left behind.
Perhaps that's  what it was:
Both of us exulting in pure emotion.
Feed me. Feed me your anger and pain.
I feel it swell within me even now.
Some dark aspect of ourselves was escaping to see sunlight
- Or not, for we stayed in doors.

A beautiful soul.
Beautiful in your love as well as your sadness.
Beautiful though I saw much of your ugliness.
Beautiful in your complexity. In your tragedy. The agony.
Consumed by the abyss.

We're all beautiful, in the end. For life itself is beauty, and once we have slipped to the darkness beyond, there's nothing left but to cherish the memory:
that
beautiful
living
thing.