Sleeplessly I stumble the side walk,
A man.
No, I was something other than a man.
A man would hold their head high and sing songs of glory.
Deep bellows would slush around his words.
Dominance would gush.
Strong and unburdened.
Shoulders wide and broad.
Just like the horizon that rose for him.
Setting ablaze his inner beings.
Tempers unable to be tempted.
Slightly tipped to one side.
Animosity of being such a way.
Strongly glaring at the world.
A mold that doesn't fit whom he should be.
Never told to be a man.
Because that's how he always acted.
Edgy and living up to expectations.
Male companions never wavering.
Unable to shed this masculinity.
A stage set for man.
Started when he was a boy:
Pick fights,
Be tough,
Never shed a tear,
Do not show weakness;
When brought to your knees, that could never happen.
A man never falls down.
Never sees darkness.
But the wholesome sun that rose for him.
It's the way everything started.
It's the reasoning behind his ability to batter and abuse.
It's why his lovers always felt the strength of his hands.
Why his brothers in arms never said a word.
It's the same reason I walk the streets alone.
Never able to ask for hand with a closed fist.
And never taught to open them.
Only taught to beat yourself dead.
No longer able to continue life as a man.
That's why so many of us end up dead by our own hand.