When a little boy cries, we hold him and tell him,
“it’s okay”
But when he becomes a man, we push him away,
“hey now, don’t be ga..”

Yet you’re happy to be everything to everyone, even if it
gives the impression that it benefits you the most – bend
a bone to break yourself, to prove you belong.

But if a man breaks down being honest; be honest, he has
to prove himself – that his tears really belong to his struggles,
to fully showcase everything that is so wrong, to leave an
impression on everyone.

The darkness has counted and held most of my tears, along
with my fears that one day they’ll all be revealed.

Spread joy in your smile; be it contagious! As when you see a man
raging outside in public, it begs the question to the eyes; “he's a bit
outrageous?" And even as you get too good at your ***** talk; leaving
a stain after every kiss – do remember, when you take the hand of a
man’s princess; you'd be wise to make her a queen.

As any fault in a man’s armour, becomes the perfect aim to his heart
and on his path, he walks with the info he has to better chart. And as
you try to do your part, to show honest, and non-faulted love; it can
feel short sometimes –

still... don’t cut yourself short, when the world hates to see you stand
tall. Won't you hold onto the assurance that your Creator stands taller
and always above it all.

My mother used to say.
You catch more flies with honey.
Than you do with vinegar.

She never taught me.
That the same principal.
Would apply to men.

Like how they craved affection.
Just as much as they craved sugar.

That their jaws would gnaw.
As they took bites out of my skin.

Causing me to bleed out.
Till I've been drained.
Of everything I ever was.
Or will be.

That this world.
Has taught me.
My pleases and thank yous.

That the sour words.
Have no place in a women's.
Vocabulary.

That sentences like *******.
I don't give a crap.
Get the hell away from me.  

Offends a man's ear.
Just as much as the word no.
No ******* way.

So the next time they order honey.
Give them vinegar instead.

Every slave must abide by its master.
The bitterness of carrying out
any action that will benefit others.
There’s no shame in not having choices
but there is in not having doubts.
Far beyond an ultimate freedom,
an excuse for an absence of self,
there is life overpowering reason,
and a reason overpowering death.
Being found in a state of despair,
stripped of respect to the bone,
a necessity more needed than air
to a slave – is a slave of its own.

Every slave must abide by its master.

Kneeling before what is stronger
or standing before what is weak,
is a future that cannot be wronger
or a past that could not be more bleak.
Far beyond understanding and meaning,
there is craving devouring men,
be it owning or knowing, or being,
it is always a mark of the end.
The imminent burden of pain
perishes as soon as you delve
into waters that can wash you away.
Every slave is a slave to himself.

Be careful with men,

because they want just one thing:


your full attention.

Every bill passed
Every law enforced
And every punished person
And every broken door
Every wall built
Every motion managed
And every battered woman
And every mind damaged
Every code of conduct
Every regulation
And every callous worker
And every police station
Every constitution
Every consequence
And every carried hate crime
And every document
Every proclamation
Every orange dictator
And every child taken
And every righteous debater
All of them have suffered
All of them are dead
And all of them are falling
And all of them have bled

When the marriage ends,  
and the child is still too small to understand  
what's been torn,  
why is it that the man tells his friends—  
"She was crazy."  
"She never got off her ***."  
"She was too emotional."  
"She never took care of the kids."  

And no one asks him,  
"Why did you stay?"  
Why did you have children with her?  
Why did you marry her in the first place?  
Why does she have full custody now?"  

No one dares to ask,  
because they already know.  

Men stay—  
for the comfort of control,  
for the invisible chains that bind women  
with babies,  
with promises that were never kept.  

They know,  
the way a child knows their mother’s touch  
but never her heart.  

The man knows his power in her silence,  
in her labor,  
in her sacrifices—  
the ones no one sees but her.  

And yet, when she walks away, they ask her,  
"Why did you stay so long?"  

Because they know the cost of leaving  
was more than she could afford.  

But still she walked.  

Still she left.  

Why did she stay?  

For the love she thought might change him.  
For the chance that maybe—just maybe—  
he’d become the man she believed in.  
For the hope that her children would have a father who cared.  

But he didn’t.  

He stayed because he knew—  
the house wouldn’t run without her.  
The kids wouldn’t be fed,  
the bills wouldn’t be paid,  
and the image of a family was more important than the truth.  

Men stay because it’s easier to claim a woman  
than to be the man they promised to be.  

And when she leaves, they don’t ask themselves,  
"Why couldn’t I be better?"  

They just ask,  
"Why did she stay so long?"

Found love in a man’s clothes; the one who had
Love in his heart before that love stick in his pants

Man-made; a man made from complex emotions,
He’s just an emoji showing one shade of feeling
With a different one behind him

So few, do rarely wear their heart on their sleeve –
He does so well to cover up himself

                                              Naked men are so few!

Fellow men –
man to man,
once a boy to
another boy...

I beg you,
please make your
intentions clear...

For we all sleep at night –
and in that sense don’t
need more dreams
being sold to
our women

those are false dreams –

A man opens up

in the arms of a woman --


He softens and talks.