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.
~*~
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.