He stood back.

I didn’t know,
I saw it coming.
Until it came.

He called less and less.
And when he did call—
I could feel the detachment:
The little emotional battlement,
Resurrected, as protection.

He would retreat to that inner place
That place where all he heard,
Were the vacant cries of a broken heart,
The hallow bellows of taunting devils.
He must protect that darkness from the light.

He closed himself in—
A hermit with only the voices:
Of dread,
Of doubt,
Of hurt,
And addiction.

The damn broke.

It got too hard.
This making it on his own.

He was Atlas, but no god.

The last place to find help, the phone,
Only more voices there.
Would those outside voices help?
Or could they talk him bloody, too?

Just need to make these roiling voices stop.
Just need to make this ache, this hurt stop.
Just need to make the roaring loneliness stop.
Just need… for just a while.

And so—
Let cups of ferment flow.
Let little drops of sleep swallow.
Let tomorrow be a long way off.

Little one,
There are voices here that care for you.
There is a voice right here shouting,
“I love you!”

More than words, or miles can tell.
There are people, yes only people, here;
People who want to love you.
Who want to tell you they love you.

People who've heard those voices inside,
People who've beaten those voices,
Who want to help you beat them too.

Little one,
There are voices here that care for you.
There is a mighty voice—
All around.

A voice that cries out!
With blood and stone and all creation,
A voice that runs red with love for you.
A love that has beaten those dark voices, many times.

That mighty voice is there too, inside of you.
You must believe he is deep in love with you,
And hear with love’s ears that mighty voice calling.

Oh little one,
There are voices here that care for you.

Little one, let us love you!

for my friend