Is it true that nowadays the value of a man is in how many women he ***** on a daily basis?
Is it true that nerdy is only good when it’s a vulnerable female rather than a young boy trying to actually get somewhere in his life?
Is it true that women consider themselves ******* and that being a “lady” is simply for the old or stuck up hoes?
Excuse my vulgarity.
Is it true that if I were to back into, *******, and ******* on you, you wouldn’t mind? Hell, it’s a dance, relax.
Is it true that if I were to come to you as a true gentleman, opening doors and kissing on your hand rather than trying to **** your face off in the first 15 minutes, you’ll deny me, not because I’m not a good guy, but because that style is dead?
Is it just me, or am I holding on to a time of the dead? Is it just me or are we in a time of complete confusion?
Is it true that If I were to show you intimacy and go deeper to showing feelings of actual love, you’d simply consider me a boyfriend and not actually a counterpart?
Where did it go? What happened to the times when a love was formed and built rather than packaged and given easily? What happened to the times when you’d say “girlfriend” and think of love and consideration rather than just the title itself? What happened to actually loving your counterpart as apposed to simply having them around you?

I have no secret agenda. And for that, people feel bad for me.
I’m still in my gentleman’s valence, and for that, women feel sad for me.
I don’t keep grave secrets lest a grave robber dig up my past and show the skeletons as if they were fresh details rather than a forcefully faded memory.
I wear my glasses, freshly cleaned for better sight, and yet I still can’t see.
I can’t see what everybody else sees. To me, I see a nice guy, a guy that’s lucky to have someone who's lucky to have him. And I don’t flaunt this…………. But apparently I’m oblivious of my own visage.
Apparently I’m a creature of pure evil and disgust for the better things of life.
Apparently I’m perverse when I smile at people and apparently I’m old fashion for opening doors for people.
But in all my aspects of supposed incompleteness, I recognize those that judge me as confused souls just the same as me. For one who shows no respect shalt not receive any, and yet I still don’t receive any.
I can’t stand the feeling of love lost, and yet I feel it every day. I feel the emptiness crowding around me as if I were in a trash compactor. Why is it that nice guys finish last when we started the race? Why is it that If I show no respect, I get more respect from the people I wish to earn it from?
Why do women like fuckboi rather than knowledgeable counterpart? Why am I alone in a world where I know for a fact there is someone who thinks like me?
Why do I even care what anyone thinks? Why am I still looking for a love that I’ve professed not to care about? Why is it that even under my circumstances, I could care less about what’s to do about any and every one of my flaws, giving the same belief that love accepts all flaws?
I tell myself to stop sometimes so that I can look at myself, but even when I look in the mirror, I see broken shards of glass appear at my imperfections. And for that, I know what the meaning of change should imply to me.

This one goes out to the regular ladies. The ones popping pimples in mirrors and not worrying about make-up in the morning. The ones who say forget about their friends and go out exploring.
The ones who give kisses to random associates and giggle about it to their friends later but make sure somehow not to confuse him with emotions he had to create to start a feeling. The ones who keep the quiet ones closest and the loudest front and center.
The ones that pay attention to me, smile sometimes, and move on. You have no idea how it feels to be recognized once again, and I’m loving you guys for it. The ones who play with their hair in class, no ***** given about what you say to them about it.
This one goes out to the girls who keep a low-pro and just go with the flow, speaking only when spoken to and giving  false smiles as an indication of how little they are interested. To the girls who have a shyness that needs to be broken, but no party animals can claw through it without her unwilling will,
This one’s for the loners, all alone in a world that they refuse to abandon, sheltered by a reminiscence that doesn’t break through the storm of becoming current again. Those who were beginning something by themselves and ended up with a partner by the end, we know and we’re happy for you.
Now, I only named a few that this was for, but truly, it’s for all those who want it to be for them. I just want you to know that you’re not alone, ever. You’ve personally got an angel who knows what’s going on with you. A guardian if only you let them through,
And I know this, because I am one of those guardians, and I’m willing to serve and protect any who declare me employed for the task.

By the love in my heart, I never meant to do you any wrong.
In all my meaning, I intended to curb your appetite for love to the best of my intentions. Only, the hunger for it in your heart was so voracious that, even if I were to have been around enough for it to have made a difference, I couldn’t have sated you. And I humble myself to that fact.
By the heat of my body, I never meant to miss you. I thought what was past was past and that I could escape it by running. But I’m out of gas on an abandoned highway and your memory stuck behind me, willing to show its presence but not to pass me.
By the chill in my soul, I never meant to abandon you. Sure, you brought out the worst in me, skipping classes, cursing more, using every knot of energy to find different ways to connect to you, but you also brought out the best, for if it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve figured out how pivotal human love was to me. I still crave it to this day like junkies and needles.
But I can’t feed.
Let’s admit it, I say everytime that I won’t find someone like you and that I’d stop trying, but I always do and then treat them the same way I treated you- with contentment, but a sense of caution, not too close to be intimate but not far enough to be distant. And then I leave. It’s my schedule, my signature of leaving a trail of confused and broken hearts behind as if I were smashing glasses.
I’m sorry for the pains that I might’ve caused you… You all, for there’s more than one in the works whenever I’m foreman.
Brianna, Sarah, Katrina, Sade, Erykah, all of those who I believed I left confused if not alone. I was unclear of intentions because I didn’t know what my intentions even were, I was winging it like birds on their migrations. And now I’m stuck in a reminiscent past like tires stuck in muddy earth.
Am I allowed to feel such empty emotions? Am I allowed to feel apologetic even if nothing was deemed wrong? Wronging all of those who come to me like grading papers, but still in the field looking for a future counterpart, my next meal as if I’m a vulture.
And for that, I can never forgive myself enough to rise over it.