You were a general,

And we, your willing soldiers;

I knew from day one

That I would follow you

Anywhere.

You led us into battle,

Not against others but

Against ourselves.

Some considered it a

Joke,

Maybe because they had never

Had reason to bury

Pieces of themselves

Six feet under,

Where it could all ache

As an unhealed scar,

But no one could see it.

You taught me how to

confront the worst of myself,

and win.

Every time I unearthed a new scar,

You sang your pride,

Unafraid of the ugliness of

My wounds,

And it was like a balm

To every raw mark.

I came to you

Quiet, timid, and afraid.

By the time I left,

I had found a smile

That I thought I had lost,

And I remembered

How to let myself

Take up space.

Thank you—

Thank you.

You taught me more

Than any before or after.