My Angel.

The one who saved me.

The one who protected me. 

The one who healed me.

My Angel.

The light in the darkness.

The one who saw what I kept hidden.

The one who understood.

My Angel had scars.

Inside and out.

He didn't let them define him.

My Angel had demons.

He hid from them.

He knew if they caught him he'd be gone. 

My Angel tried to run but it was no use.

They were getting closer.

He fell into the darkness.

In the darkness, he held a gun. 

He closed his eyes.

And raised it to his head.

My Angel was tired.

He didn't want to run any further. 

He chose death instead. 

My Angel pulled the trigger.

The gun fell from his hand. 

He was gone. 

I wish I could have saved my angel.

Protected him.

Healed him.