I struggled in your absence
You flourished in yours
What was left to me, was the end of my rope
And so I tied a knot and held on
The thread cut into me
The blood ran down my extended arms
There was nothing beautiful about the crimson painting me
The beauty found was in my resistance
A voice spoke to me, “don’t you dare give up”
A voice that mirrored my own
And soon my feet touched solid ...