Angels wept the night he took me,

From where I lay helpless on the ground I thought I could hear them. 

No one told me it would be okay, for long long after that day,

Many looked but few ever stayed to see.

I regarded it nonchalantly, the less here, the less that could hurt me. 

Until I found myself alone in the dark once again.

Angels cried out when I took my own life,

I cried too when I once again found myself alive. 

I could hear their tears, not sobs, only drops as they fell and I knew,

They cried for me, for my fallen youth. 

I couldnt hear their tears when I begged them to take me,

Only a crude, sobering silence that made me believe.

Now more ever, that I, truly alone, had found myself,

Lying again on the bathroom floor and I, screamed for relief.

 Until my lungs were sore and I could no longer beg,

I was left with only whimpers and a cold, lonely sense of the world.

I went through the world after that with a grueling numbness,

Hope had left me long ago and I still quietly whimpered for relief.

Help, the only word I could no longer utter,

For I had given up on rescue by the time he came.

So much so that he never knew that he was slowly saving me.

Each day, he would come and with him bring...

Hope, maybe, even, dare I say, a will to go on.

Finally enough for me to stand alone.

He brought me so many things and he, 

He gave me something I never knew I needed.

Years later I look around and see,

A family, a love, a future.

So far now from the bathroom floor where I begged to die,

Far from when I made the angels cry.