#boyish
I wanna be the hero, I want to be the good little boy, but all this life has me down
and I can’t live in this little town, where everybody frowns, and people walk around with crowns
Looking down because you act a little different and weep yourself to sleep.
It may not be just this town the destroys little boys dreams,
But I’m not going to stick around to watch my home split apart at the seams
My first memory I told my momma that I was the ugly duckling from her story,
she whispered “goodnight son”, and rolled her head back chuckling
She must have known for a long time that it was truth
But she insisted on tucking me in so I showed her my pearly white tooth
Because I thought she made the world all better
But when she kissed my head she told me a lie, and It was all to stop the bed wetter.
And it worked for that moment of time
I was too young to understand that other people wouldn’t be so kind
And when my daddy read me stories the next night it was no different
I told him that I was the black sheep that cried wolf, but he was indifferent
He just told me his stories even louder to stop my interruptions
From breaking the perfect bubble they wrapped me up in complexions.
My father told me about the three little piggies and how I was the strongest of them all
Because the big bad wolf could never blow down my bedroom wall
But what he didn’t tell me that all along he was the wolf in disguise
He was eaten himself, and I was next to be gobbled up; a pig who won first prize
However, I never got the chance to go weeeee weeee weee all the way home
Like every six-year-old kid dreamed of on their first day gone.
Within ten minutes of being in reality, I was told that Santa wasn’t real,
That stories were just fiction, and broken hearts won’t actually heal
I ran home that day fertilizing the grass below
It felt dead inside the kick to my reality was low
The grass I ran home on had been bone dry for six years
But I never really knew what to name crying since Elmo never really showed any tears
I wanna be the hero, I want to be the good little boy, but all this life has me down
and I can’t live in this little town, where everybody frowns, and people walk around with crowns
Looking down because you act a little different and weep yourself to sleep.
It may not be just this town the destroys little boys dreams,
But I’m not going to stick around to watch my home split apart at the seams
From the crib to the high chair, from the training wheels to the big boy seat, I was off
Off to meet talking trains, dancing zoo animals, and bright smiling people lit like Rudolf
I wanted laser guns shooting at me, ninja stars whizzing past my face
And everyday boys like me saving the day from bad guys that I'd have to chase
But nowadays criminals are for the news crews, and fights were for action scenes,
Adventures and joys were six planets away in Pluto’s playful puppy dreams
But I distinguished reality as fake because your fake was my reality
That I so desperately tried to hold onto since it was more lively than gravity
I was told the easter bunny had died and my cat didn’t go to the vet to rest;
the Superheroes were just drawings on a piece of paper destroying the forest
Not fighting the joker nor galactic alien ships; not even raising a finger to save a cat,
But I watched thousands of people die on my kindergarten screen in a concrete grave.
Superman never showed up to stop either of the hijacked planes,
And Mrs. Burger, the only teacher to ever give me a red light, cried for at least an hour in pain.
Before this, I had no idea what death was, but it had become blatantly clear to see
That whatever it was, where ever it took people, I swore up and down It would never take me
Because I wanna be the hero, I want to be the good little boy, but all this life has me down
and I can’t live in this little town, where everybody frowns, and people walk around with crowns
Looking down because you act a little different and weep yourself to sleep.
It may not be just this town the destroys little boys dreams,
But I’m not going to stick around to watch my home split apart at the seams
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
*If but in another world, another realm,
One where I could be yours to hold,
To cherish your touch, your dark and
Challenging eyes glimmering, against
The backdrop of your boyish hair, short
And shimmering.*
*What if another time, another space,
We could share a kiss, our night embrace,
Why if we could have had just one chance,
This is the only life, then we must part,
Sparkling the stars, how I'd love to see them
In your beautiful, lovely, tender arms...*
So the rain it falls and falls for you,
And the drought and sun it calls,
Reflecting sad and weary pain so true,
This misery followed by gladness,
This manic world is really blue,
Yes it will be so very blue for you.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
I’ve been told many things over the years,
But the one that hurt the most is
“Quit being yourself”
I’ve been told that so many times,
And each time,
I break a little bit more.
My personality is “too strong”
My looks “too boyish”
My thoughts “too sad”
It hurt that people would say that,
When I am constantly told
“Don’t let anyone change you”
But why should I stay the same
When no one likes me?
Nobody talks to me because I'm “intimidating”
Nobody looks at me because I look “depressed”
Nobody cares about me because I’m “too much”
Why can’t I be myself without the judgement I face?
Why can’t I,
Just be what everyone wants?
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC