Memories paint silhouettes of love,

Memories paint silhouettes of love,

people who I can't bear life without.

I think of the night when I was petrified to appear,

but ended up loved.

I think of the haunting night of almost-death,

and realize the need of love.

I think of the weeks I spent, sitting away in pain;

then realize the stupidity of it all, because there never would have been gain.

I think of the night when I started to live, 

bit by bit, and piece by piece;

and that same night, sobbing eyes looked to comfort and for a release.

And now I see the person I've become has nothing to do with me, or pain,

but the people that I've loved.

And what more could I gain?