The man, the monster…

Like it’s only your heart that can break. But let’s not talk about a man’s mental that directs his fate. There’s no need to mention the reverse angle bcuz we need not feel until someone blurts out of how we’re broken. The conversion is hopeless. And yet it’s not much to bury the tenderness due to It’s just the way it is. Deal with the unfortunate malarkey just long enough before the end of this thing we all live. Knowing it’s your free will that’s taken a blow. Let’s keep it there so the attention isn’t directed towards a man’s weakness speaking up to defend himself before he accepts the dwelling of dying alone. No pity party needed and there’s no reason to believe a man is aloud to soften unless it’s to another’s smothering selfishness that claims the spot light. A man is a pawn to a world filled with figurative characters playing rolls. But shh, the name calling is what follows the truth that ricochet in his mind if words fining airwaves to float as even if a mere moans. Just speak the purpose that’s never given the respect earned. Be the problem if intent demands worth. It’s all an illusion so the weary can be unaccountable. For their lack of structure to be the guidelines of the norm that somehow is unstoppable. Men know we’re stuck with the process of our silence idling to a line that’ll never be crossed again. That’s when the man becomes the monster bcuz it’s always someone else’s vision that isn’t lived up when boundaries make their stand. A man isn’t allowed to express conflicts out loud. The turning away will forever be the answer others cling to as the blade is placed. As the mirror from different angles exercise gestures that mimic the face stepping to have grace. As intact is a must so this world doesn’t own the depths that never surface. Bcuz if it does, he’s considered worthless. As fingers point to the issues from a one sided conversation that is more like a war zone. Just for a man to realize there’s no use in continuing relations for it’s just another confrontation waiting to be entertained as he roams. Finding himself distant and isolated by the doing of others without a clear thought process to be sane. Men aren’t supposed to want to escape. Their backbone and grit determine the path that needs to be walked. That’s until one step is too many and a sidestep dips off the game plan to be the sponge that absorbs everyone else’s faults. As the weight is carried as far as his stability can maintain. Then it’s fuck it all for he’s the bad guy no matter the situation he can’t explain…