With fingertips stained by crimson blood, widened eyes stared down in unbelieving shock. Cold spasms and tears flowed in floods, unsure what I had expected behind the lock.
Bittersweet memories clouds my mind, purposefully zoning in on his obvious signs. His flashy smile had been consipated but kind, thinning into a fine scripted line.
Every moment, every breath, every tear; felt like an overwhelm of unwanted guilt. Now time without him would tick by in a year, every of his fallen brick could never be rebuilt.
To him; I wish you told me.
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~*~
this is in honour of suicide prevention month september.
it is okay to not be okay as a boy. boys are humans too, you need not always be strong.
