I Should Have Listened

To you I say, I should've listened.

Some days I know I don't speak your language; syllables of fuzzy coloured fragments.

Your bright wit takes you to the top of my trusted list, and so I say, I should've listened.

Earthquakes aren't earths way of expressing joy.

They are releases of cataclysmic tension, tonnes buckling plates to creases.

Just a friction addiction.

So the next time my heart quakes, we can skip the debate and I'll listen.

Another lesson to be impressed upon my hungry and lonely ghost mind.

The opportunity to get high meant more than "I love you", and to let go of you(nion) becomes my

Unmissable Target

My Obsession

Immiscible by force, by and large I've been taught to charge at the goal of intercourse.

That obscured silhouette beyond the hot and wet sideshow is my heart lobbying for wholeness.

It doesn't sell seats, but ill show you mind and as a bonus bring a little realness to this display.

Authenticity cuts away (Ever marionette string a noose)

Any chance to sway (Disguised self abuse)

Your desire to stay (Shadows set loose)

I puppet myself contritely.

I err politely, horrified of my own sexuality. Inglorious on screens and a direct means to my deepest feeling.

An insoluble mix with morality

Remix. Rewind.

Take time to halt the trade of my vulnerability for your approval.

I sanction the removal of:

"Am i good enough?"

"Do you love me?"

"Please don't leave."

And I grieve the death of who I was told to be, the one that only feels like me.

Unfree, but clinging to beliefs of relational validation. That somehow, through consummation alone I will feel at home in myself as a Man.

I was taught to stand tall, stand guard, build walls. To be seen, not to falter, to run and not crawl.

Excellence expected.

Projected from disheartened and lobotomized child-men, repeating their painful paternal anthems ad nauseum.

I've lived a life of halfness, of maskness, and hollow needs.

And I am over it.

I make this decree here and now.

I will not hide my crown nor will I shrink from my manhood.

Free from the "archys" and "isms" my sovereignty births compassion and stiches the schisms that've widened from hurt hearts back together.

Whatever is left leaves no room for clever or cleft solutions.

Cloud cutting for world-wide ablution.

The time for the New Man is Now.