Losing control…

Lemme cry. Fuck gender rolls that keeps the emotion from my eyes. I’m dying on my own with a blockage I can’t seem to tare down. Damn me for living on a different type of freedom that lost the meaning of being found. As the solo act defines a version of me I never wanted to be. But here I am wanting to shed a tear on a pillow that can’t relate to the dream. I fade as if I don’t exist. Being the scenes like others that understand what it’s like to never be missed. This is me beneath the texture of attraction that no one knows. I’m going to waste n there’s no way to stop the inevitable from landing me in a grave before truths are shown. Maybe I’m too far time like others say. Or is it possible I just haven’t connected with an expression when face to face? There hasn’t a feel to believe in n it’s bothersome. Only thing it’s from time to thing is an emptiness that collapses behind the walls when wondering if luv. But who is self to weep when there’s been a passing of friends that could’ve meant so much? Maybe I’m just a fool that cannot accept someone will stick around until the end ever so flush. Why is there trains to run everyone off? Question come from within that need justified in such a way that can be understood in the simplest thing of a pause. But when everyone mimics the same op bs who’s who being dies that lock out a use? Like me others fight the feel to give in to the purity of an actual fuckin truce. When the rules need to be broken so life can be lived again. Just lemme leak so I can release the confusion even though I am but just a man…