If I Had The Words

I wish I had the words to reach him, to bring him back to me, but...
One knot.
Two knots..
Three...
He's another person that  depression has stolen from me.
I wish I had the words to explain, but there's no true direction to life; there are barely even lanes.
There is only our perception, and maybe mine is skewed, because there are people around me that drank in the hope, that drank in the light, just to end up screwed.
I drank in the dark, and only there I found what I regard as dark, as sacred, as true.
In the dark you cannot see,  you must feel your way through.
Feel your grief, in all the ragged, jagged edges of your heart; the stranger's kindness, warm, safe, and soft; the infernal thing that is love, the double-edged blade of hawk and dove.
I wish I had the words to bring you to the dark; so I can learn again the shape of a soul.
I wish I had the words to reach up from the dark; to scale the ramparts, delve into the towers of love and light to bring to the beasts of hope and fear to fight.
...But I don't know that I have those words; at least, not that anyone has heard.
My voice is a soft thing, a meek being where my needs lie bleeding.
I need gentle things, kindness, contact, hugs... gentle things of trust. Every hug I gave him, that I'm alive to give, to get, a piece of me I found and a broken bone reset. Every hug I take a chance and ask for, spoken for or not, it means I trust you. More than likely I'd even dare say I love you, were that my lot, as I do not believe in love.
I believe in people; I believe in actions, they say what words will not.
Yet still every word of praise gives me a reason, keeps me above the ground.
If I found the words to bring everyone back, I don't know that I would. What's done is done and done... it is the past, and this life is present.
If I found the words to bring him back, it would not be to ask him why; I would break into his arms and cry. The loss was five hand-fast years and a lifetime's tears, and in their place is left a thousand unsettled fears.
I would look up into his honey soft eyes, just for one last time. I would drink in every pale lash, every last ounce of his wit and sass.
I wouldn't have the words. I would barely have the heart... because it wasn't just my world he tore apart.