A Man's Thoughts
A man doesn’t need to be loved, or at least that’s what she said.
I guess I was misled, or fed the wrong bread, or maybe she feels she’s just too many steps ahead.
A relationship without equality only makes the other a novelty or a possession with no value at all.
So it’s easy to fall, one walks, one crawls, one moves, one stalls, so we bounce back and forth like checks and balls.
But I believed the words that was once heard, I guess the vision is just blurred.
Words that were spoken are now mumbled and slurred, is the heart still here or was it just kicked to the curb.
It’s absurd to feel like you matter sometimes, because the bruises are coming faster than a boxer’s eye with a shine.
And Vaseline can’t stop the bleeding of needing to feel desire, or passion from deep within.
Wanting me is like a sin, so sexual attraction becomes a game of pretend.
And friends no longer have an ear to lend, so it’s held in like deep breaths.
One, two, hold… Don’t let go, breath real slow, don’t expose, the pressure.
I’m falling off track like broke down dressers, I am built up with words of promise, till the time comes where I feel lesser….
I mean if there something’s on my chest, the treatment is like I am wearing a dress.
Never the less the signs are there, if the heart is not with me, I guess it’s over there.
And the fear is that I’m right…
If the shoe was on the other foot you might as well close the book because it would be like,
“Just tell me who is she!”
“Why don’t you want to kiss me?”
“Why don’t we F-U-C?”
Shit you know the rest!
How many men turn to cheating because they feel at home they are no longer the best?
Or thoughts that you’re women is no longer impressed…
But this pattern goes back and forth like tennis or a game of chest.
The pain is getting harder to maintain like a bullet wound to the flesh.
Nevertheless I keep believing, she’s odd’s and I’m even,
But still somehow we match,
Like apple and jacks, an itch and a scratch, one eye with a patch,
Finger nails and painted toes that match.