“You just a nigga with good lipstick and laid hair”
That’s a direct quote from all of my homeboys. Still not
sure if it’s a compliment or not. But now… I’ve accepted it. Like I said I am
emo… but for the good. The stuff that impacts me negatively, I don’t say often.
Why burden people? That’s what this blog is here for.
But do things get overwhelming like this for men too? I
can’t imagine they cry at the thought that the person they love won’t ever play
in their hair anymore.
That to sleep, they need Xanax in the medicine cabinet to
replace their love that’s no longer in their bed.
That people literally say they can see the weight of the
world on their shoulders when all I want is his weight on me. Period.
That they feel delusional calling what we do making love
cause their not sure if the love is mutual.
They don’t wake up to tear soaked body pillows.
They don’t miss train stops trying to hold back tears
because “our” song came on but they couldn’t bring themselves to go to the next
song.
That Jack Daniels is their permanent rebound love.
They never dreamed of someone’s touch and woke up to a pain
in their heart so deep it felt like a heart attack.
The energy it takes to put on a convincing fake smile feels
like it could power an apartment. The time spent hitting “load more message”
and re-reading old conversations because new ones aren’t happening, probably
could rebuild the Great Wall of China. Men don’t seem like they deal with that…
But then again… Look at Drake.
Note - Sorry if this post put you in your feelings. Misery loves company.
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