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I am a Man

I am a man.

I am one of two sexes, I am made with Y’s and X’s.

I have two hands, and two shoes

My skin is a shade of tan,

against two eyes, a little darker than most,

to see right through.

I am a man. I am destined to like the colour blue. and I do.

Black hair, thick frame, brown eyes

My ***** is average sized, or so Google has told me,

defining and aligning my masculinity to the length of a certain body ***** that almost no ones sees,

It only makes sense.

 

I am a man, after all.

And I understand the part of the debt that I owe.

I pay my attention to the fighters who guard things I fought to know.

With that knowledge they hold in the throes of their quotes

take note.

And beware,

because creatively, I will so rudely steal away ideas you’ve owned.

Seeing that feeling reeling in your frontal lobe,

gripping it and IV dripping it into my bones.

And then I will break them, seam after seam

sprinting through dusty rocks and skipping stones in my bloodstream.

Eroding my veins with it’s electricity.

**** I am a man.

I walk, like I lead with my chest and

I talk, like I lead with my head

but my lips lead with what I’ve already said

So I, dust off the dirt of another loss

like I’m coming back from the dead.

I can speak. I speak like you are my foundation, that I am building my words against your brains

training myself to speak in beauty

and praying not to speak in vain.

But I am only a man.

 

and I am a hypocrite,

I’ve fallen victim to ripping images from television

and I can feel them chipping the paint,

as if stripping my brain was the ultimatum in my struggle to self sustain.

I am a hypocrite.

Because I tell myself that I am better. that I am so different.

but I guess I, pay too much attention to this hipster ****

and taking too much time to find that my tragic flaw was my indifference.

cause everything I’ve tried to hold on to so tightly, was rubbing away at my fingerprints.

 

I will atone for my ignorance.

I am atoning for my ignorance.

Every thought I taste

Every day I waste is a prayer of sincerity

Not a prayer of repentance, No.

not just yet

 

and I am a man with a chant, with a mantra

sounding like

 

I wanna be somebody, I wanna be somebody, I want to be somebody

Honest

Because honesty

I just want to engage it...

putting a 3 carat ring on it’s finger,

committing myself to its promises, and marrying it wild

i want to puke truth like a child

Or rather

I want to nurse the truth back to health make it fall in love with me,

and when it runs away

i want it to return like a dove to me.

like 40 days, running deep as a flood to me,

I want it to sing to me

Because then you can hear God understand who you are, and she hears me perfectly

defining and aligning my masculinity to the strength of my heart,

which almost no one sees

it’s only making sense.

 

and you have to understand, my personalities ***** is...huge.

like, that rumour about Asians is just so untrue.

because in the lyrical bedroom my rhythms are smoother than chocolate fondue

and I’ll make love to our intellect in positions that are considered taboo

until neither of our mind’s bodies can become unglued

but I digress

 

I am something more potent than my style of prose

I fill out more body than I have in my clothes

so don’t talk until you walked in the tread of my soul

I am a man that is far too much for a social role

I am a man, I am a man, I am a man, I am a

 

Man, I want to give back my manliness, in exchange for godliness

and i’ll go ahead and give up a pretentious thought, or maybe even two

and i guess i’ll toss in that childhood too

in goes those high school years I faked my way through

and i’ll go ahead and give up my skewed world view

because in lieu

of every limit I set on myself and what I can do

 

I must repeat the mantra out loud

If you would please look into me, I’d be pleased to look into you.

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Written by
devon-uy
American
Published
Feb 9, 2011
Lines·Words
87·763
Permission

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