If you could open up every man in the world
You'd find that they've been popping pills their entire lives
Yet no one ever thought of an intervention
These pills are capsules of clear salty water
That drown their hearts, killing off every emotion
They are not allowed to wet their cheeks
Because according to the myth, male tears shrink penises

Men do not cry; they bleed inwards
Their blood is stained with all their fears and pains
But they do not feel anything
They are men, and men don't feel
Men don't hurt; men only exist
But how do they breathe with all that water in their lungs?
When they exhale, their breath carries little drops of water out
They are round, soft, and pleading for help
"Let us out! We can't breathe! It's too dark in here,"
For the heart is the light of the human soul
Drown it and everything shuts down

Crying is not just tears streaming down your face
Crying is establishing a connection with yourself
It is an acceptance of pain
And acceptance is the first step to move forward
When you cry, your barren eyes are washed and cleaned
Drying out the well inside your chest
Letting your heart breathe
Letting your body rest
Letting your soul shine

Men are oceans of salt and pain
When the only thing they need to be is human

The thoughts within my head sloshed around my brain like the alcohol in my stomach.
I was cold and tired and with a dizzy mind the only thing I craved was to be in your arms.

I called out your name, to no avail, on the street right in front of your house. the lights were off
so I called your phone and the dial tone seemed to say sorry for the inconvenience, get some sleep you drunk girl.

So I walked alone and cold back to my small room. i put on the shirt that smelled like you,
climbed into bed and reached my arms out into the void that used to contain your warmth.

I had a dream you called that night, only to wake and find it wasn't a dream. i was mad at myself for thinking of it as such. Mad at myself for not answering, not paying enough attention, for turning my phone on silent.

In the morning the thoughts within my head had exited along with the alcohol, and my mind belonged to me again, not you. The only thing I craved was a good bagel, and to be rid of you.

what will I create tonight?
a question uttered in my head-
will it flower or fall dead?

echo in delight or encounter dread?
all is open, I question me again,
what is the purpose?

what may this pursuit bring into being?
Imagining worlds of words and inner voices
magical or hauntingly.

I had to look up
the word
'dating'
on Urban Dictionary
because I didn't know
what we were,
what we are.

And it said things like
'a socially acceptable
form of prostitution' and
'feelings of
puppy love that usually
dissolve
in a few weeks'.

But this is
not
puppy love.
This is not going to
dissolve or
fizzle out or
whatever,
you're not a
fizzle
you're a *******
fireworks display.

And you turn
everything in my head
into this
multi-coloured
turbulence and
I can't keep up with
how much I
adore you.

But the thing is
I don't know
if your view
is as good as mine.
What if you're
looking at something
a little less
beautiful.

What if I'm your
fizzle.

What if I'm as
temporary
as the flame you use
to light the
cigarettes
you find more
addictive
than my touch.

If that's the case
I'd rather
I left you
craving.

Because
if I'm your flame
you're my
forest fire
and you're burning
it all down until
the only thing left
standing is
you.

And I'll walk for
miles across this
carpet of ashes
just to feel the
softness of your skin
against mine.

And I'll cough
and I'll splutter
on toxic smoke
but you'll just
breathe it in because
you never realised anything
was even
lost.

You don't see me
crawl
you just know that
I'm here,
I'm here
I made it
I'm yours
I'll always be yours
because there's
nothing else
left.

And maybe
I can be
content with that
if only
you will see
that
you could burn down
everything
and I still
wouldn't put you
out.

Hey you're more than pretty. You're gorgeous. You're eyes sparkle brighter than any star. Your smile beats the moon. Your hair is so much fun to play with. Remember not to starve, purge, cut, tear, stab, poke, burn, scratch. There's no need too. I don't need to see your face to know your beautiful. I don't care what the mirror says. You deserve to know the ugly truth. You will always be beautiful and there's nothing you can say or do to change that.