Numb
like a comatose patient.
Everything blurred
until I met you.
Sleepless nights.
Lingering touches.
Whispers.
Tell me
were they real?
Or was it a joke?
How do you go from hot to cold
in a heartbeat?
Possible? No.
Excusable? Never.
I am a whirlwind of conflict.
The man in the mirror hates what he sees.
His world is gray again.
Every thought rushing,
trying to capture it all.
This is my attempt at closure.
My attempt at resilience.
My attempt to live again
without you.
I got attached too quickly.
But I'm a man,
and men don't wear hearts on sleeves.
We wear anger.
We wear stone.
But inside I want to be chalant.
I want comfort.
I want connection.
I want to feel again.
I want to cry.
I want to express.
But I am a man.
A Black man.
A Black man with a family to support.
A Black man who never thinks he's enough.
The world takes me down,
consistently.
And only one thing keeps me here.
I hate this life sometimes.
From the outside, I must have it all, right?
Poor immigrant kid
made a citizen.
Got the papers.
Got the military job.
Even holds a leadership role.
Strong too.
Living the dream.
At least that's how it looks.
But love?
Love keeps slipping away.
And no one sees the hidden struggle.
Why would they?
I'm supposed to be strong.
Supposed to be brave.
Not feel.
Not cry.
But you hurt me.
And I ache.
A wound that will not heal.
Distraction fails.
Nothing works.
And it's not just you
it's every predecessor too.
Ghosting, silence, vanishing.
Isn't it funny?
A man getting hurt
over being left on read.
So what?
So what if I have abandonment issues?
So what if I keep people at a distance?
So what if I build walls
yet still yearn for love?
Ignored
it hurts every time.
Pierces every time.
Hot to cold,
like lightning.
Like a kernel
popping into nothing.
Anxiously waiting on your text,
knowing you're not that busy,
knowing you're ignoring me.
Just be honest.
Tell me to leave.
Don't leave me wandering.
Because it hurts.
Because it's unfulfilling.
Because I deserve better
and I know it.