deeper than words

hindsight,
painting a clearer image.
my only regret,
not taking my time with you.

deconstruction of a man,
opposite of a deafening occurrence
towards the world.
synonym to a silent film,
the quietest of apocalypse.

impossible to be stuck between
a rock and a hard place.
boy, you either stack the rocks and climb
or prepare to be buried by the very same.
no one is coming.

some,
aware of our own shortcomings
so, when we spend enough time alone
within,
we tend to destroy ourselves
piece by piece.
either becoming a man,
or worst yet, a monster.

no one provides the provider
the provisions.
no one provides protection
to the protector.
nobody looks after
he, who oversees.
as it is how it should be,
i suppose.

so, he
breaks down at all the wrong times.
burdened by the weight of the tears
stored within.
because men don’t cry, boy.

but,
the expectation for a man
is to put forth and display that,
along with strength and love,
in which the world is so…
reluctant to give.
so, boy don’t forget your thick skin,
and be prepared for the judgement
when it turns into a hard shell.

unconditional love,
unknown concept,
only experienced from a few,
just maybe.
no appreciation or respect
without hidden intensions or conditions.
foreign to hear
“i see you”,
“i am glad that you are here”,
“i am proud of you”
or better yet,
“you make a difference”.

ignore the hunger,
starved of attention,
love,
and affirmation.
and boy, don’t expect to
be told you are enough.

learn to be comfortable
with replaceability.
only as good as to what you provide.
always to blame,
for what you are trying to build
goes up in flames.
irrelevant are they who hold the torch.

and boy,
when you finally get the answers,
don’t be discouraged when
the questions have already changed.
what is to be a man,
unknown definition
with a revolving description.
let’s face it,
who we are
is what we are told,
not up to us.
__
a man’s soul dies
long before his body realizes.
a boy with nothing to lose
will view everything as something to take.

so when a boy is still alive,
who will teach him to cry?

inspired by the words of others.

proof, a prerequisite to earn trust.
actions, a need for love to conquer.
and,
change is the only worthwhile sorry.

left pages empty for you,
unwritten chapter,
wondering if you’ll ever get
to fill it with your words.
—
the mystery of the unknown.

eliminating who we are not,
to figure who we are.
—
in plain sight all along.

doing the perceived right thing,
fighting the instinctual urge
controlling the impulse,
remembering what is at stake.
—
moral victories,
leaving a sour aftertaste.

stubborn in my ways,
only a matter of time.

since you
it has only been,
and will always be,
you.

losing oneself
within the darkness,
laced with turmoil.
control slowly
slipping out of grasp.
—
deprived of your thoughts.

thinking of you,
selfishly wishing
you did the same.