The proudest of men that walk the earth
Have been doused in glory since the day of their births
They chase after those who've run away
Speak when there is not a word to say

And their greatest endeavor is to convert the innocent
Hungry for the women striking young and brilliant
Unbelieving of a lady's independence
Sure that all women crave their presence

Like rabid dogs, the proud men search
For those to quench their undying thirst
To be loved and accepted of men of the heart
But these men only search in the emptiness of dark

How can they deny the truth in their faces?
They imbalance the world and its natural paces
No one can love an arrogant, proud man
But they search and search, yet they never understand

That love is for those who are willing to fail

Little Jamar raised
His voice authoritatively,
"I'm a man, and
Men don't cry!"

Jordan grabbed him
By the shoulders,
And admonished him,
"Men don't cry..",
He exclaimed.
"Boy who told you that lie?
Men do cry sometimes."
Of course they do.

The fragility of female flesh,
The feminine depth within each pore
Hides a deep havoc beneath glowing embers,
A storm man fears and calls a *****.

Tall, and sagacious, with unassailable secrets
locked by crooked keys in rusted chests -
stoic glances - upturned lips hiding more I want to see.
I find the mountains of my skin between my fingers,
hands on my hips, squeeze,
push in and battle the duplicities: more or less.
Does he look?
He uses big words I look up in dictionaries
I wonder if he likes complicated clamor of endless infractions
like the books he reads, like the characters he keeps in his
brain's edifice. And I'm volatile, I want to be written, but I know, yes, I know
I should be writing myself.
But I am small, in ways, somewhat sagacious, slightly introverted.
Does that even count?
I stutter, and feel my chest unlock then I'm
grasping at it like hands catching nuts and bolts so heavy
they're slipping through my fingers to dance on the floor.
The pieces I lose
make musical clamor, and I wonder if he's fond of the genre.

I walk dreams
I made real

For thought is my anvil

But a shadow is cast
And the mares of night gallop past

And now my creation
Sails
With black masts

You have captured my heart
In uncaring hands
If I leave now
I will be leaving it with you

That taste on your tongue
The smell in the air
The hair sticking up on your neck
The feeling of guilt you get texting her
The secret messages
The phone calls
The blade glides
The red river greets the tile again.
Your hold over me is deadly
The lipstick stains his collar
Her lips shine with chapstick
Under the rainy gray sky he departs
To meet the girl with the lipstick.
Don't be the lipstick girl.

I'm
     NEVER
  Gonna
          Allow

    Men
           To
      Put

              Me
     D
         O
           W
         N

*Again