sitting in their room:
somebody's looking at a bunch of pills.
staring at a stack of razors.
holding a thick belt in their hand.
or just thinking, contemplating to end it all.
but then suddenly, they think of you.
your smile.
the dimple on your cheek that appears when you smile.
oh god, that beautiful smile.
your touch.
the feeling they get when your soft yet strong hands caress ex their body.
feeling like they're floating, reliving that moment.
your voice.
that sweet voice that asks, "how are you today?" & says "i love you" & "i'm sorry" when they wrong you.
that sweet, sweet voice.
sweet enough to calm monster within.
your hair.
the way it feels. how it curls up when it's wet after you take a swim.
how you hate it when they touch your hair.
your love.
the way you're willing to understand them.
even though you don't, you are willing.
someone, somewhere, could throw those pills away,
throw those razors away,
choose to adorn that thick belt on their waist instead of on their neck,
& choose to hold on.
all because they thought of you.

— @beeyroyce.