She saved me.

No, not my life, for I wouldn't have died

But she saved my soul from the depths of its madness

And she emerged from the feat with not a scratch

She saved me.

She held me.

No, not my body, for I wasn't bleeding

But she held me above everything in her eyes

And it was the first time I had been something of value

She held me.

She kissed me.

No, not my lips, though she does that too

But she kissed the parts of me that I was afraid of

And she kissed them with enough adoration to make them start to mend

She kissed me.

She left me.

No, not alone, for I will always feel her warmth when the frost tries to creep

But she left me bare and undone and aching for purity

And she filled me with the promise of salvation and I was whole again

She saved me.