You paint me in black with a repugnant brush.
Your hand is shaking against the canvas, cursing a thousand earthquakes to my world and I'm supposed to keep it grounded with unconquerable stability. If Earth had to crack every now and then, why can't I? Layers of soil scream in anguish masked in fallacious exasperation, swallowing souls to the ground to save its own. And I'm blamed for keeping my own? Maybe hell itself doesn't want to burn for eternity.
Cascading drops of shame found their liberation in the arms of my solitude. I watered my hues with everything my rib cage couldn't sustain, and still no flowers bloomed. I allowed my hands to shake and my lungs to suffocate on the mercilessness my mind has always gulped, a rare occasion that its occurrence made it deemed humorous. Thousand cigarettes couldn't convince air to summon a scent of comfort to replace the turbulence injected beneath my skin.
What do I know? I'm a man who sleeps around to be held and hold someone even if it's just a meaningless delirium of iridescence. I don't do post cuddling and I don't spoon to silence my skin's pleading for warmth. Gather the executors, tell them to finish what I could never do. Tell them I've stripped off thousand souls, not to spare mine, only to keep it so I'd be the one bringing it to its abeyance. Because trust me, no one else would do it as genuinely, no one has the same persistence to end me as much as I do.
I threw myself in people's arms, leaving the shadow of my heart at the door. This time, exhaustion squeezed my being till I heard my bones shriek in consecutive cracks. What do I know? I'm a man who wasn't born with a heartbeat to speak of its own existence. Walk through the castle of glass, tell me if you'd capture a glimpse of anything but shattered pieces. Suddenly, I heard my mother's voice screaming into my brain.
"You're crying?! Man the fuck up!"
I was startled by the voices in my own head. It was when my chest swallowed one of the universe's black holes, the silhouette of my heart sent a river down my cheeks to overwhelm my sight with blinding moistness. When I couldn't take it anymore, I screamed my shame to deafen my own ears, hoping it would snatch the withering humiliation out of me. I'd kill to keep my coldness and I'd beg for a death's kiss.
Cry your heart out, scream your soul to its creator.
No one is looking, no one is listening.
So, man the fuck up.