I thought you were beautiful

Not shallow beauty,
Skin deep
The kind of beautiful like the sun
Shining on a tree leaf
Showing its veins

Beautiful like,
The sound of a creek
After a good storm

Like the feel of a summer breeze
On the back of my neck

I held you in awe

You were the mist,
Rising off the lake on a cool morning
The view from the top of my mountain,
In the fall when the leaves are colored

You were the violin music
Playing softly while I danced
The colors oil makes on the street
Just after it rains and the light hits it

I was nothing
A ghost,
In the darkest corridors of your haunted house
The typo on an old type writer,
Needing white out

I thought you were beautiful

If I admitted what I did last night, most might cringe
as it involves a black object that is about 50 inches,
I won't profess that I had some sort of ***** ***
No, I was on an extreme animated movie binge
And I had snowy mountain equivalent of tissues
Not because I'm riddled with problems and issues
It's because animated movies are tragically beautiful
And though I might not fit into the category of real men,
Because from Superman we learn, real men are steel men
and real men are constituted as muscled men
so by most, I would not be defined as a real man.

Last night I cried with a pair of eyes that grew so red
Not from an outcry that pink eye has finally spread
But from an emotional connection to animation
Because last night, I cried watching The Lion King,
When Simba lost his father, I felt my eyes sting
I cried watching Pixar's inside out
When Bing **** gave his life for his friend
I felt most of all that I had stored inside come out,
It gave me an insight into witnessing depression
And I found myself caught in between the tension,
So last night I felt an emotional connection to animation
And I disposed of many tissues, not out of temptation
From lust filled mind but from animated creations.
So last night, I realised I was more of a real man
Because I expressed how I feel and
That it was ok to cry lake from my eyes
because real men are not steel men
and real men are not required to be muscled men.

I find some simple relief
In my sullen silence
Snuggling with grief
Squeezing my fists for hours
Followed by 30 seconds of release

My peace of mind
Has been smashed
Into a million
Sand like pieces

My hippocampus
Is stuck
On repeat
A need for you increases

I found some simple relief
I know time is limited
So I'll make this brief
I've been living in this gray for so long
They've crowned and named me chief