the mirror
shows me
that I'm
breaking.
I blink to
forget,
to erase
the image
from my mind,
but the tears
on my cheeks
are still there.
⠀
the world
tries to
silence me.
boys
don't
cry.
the words
are like
a scalpel
to flesh,
scraping
away
all the
unwanted
parts.
so,
I break
on the
inside
and let the
internal
damage
eat me
alive.
⠀
I wonder
why I'm not
considered
human.
⠀
they say
I'm too cold.
too vacant.
what if I
held my heart
in my hands
and showed you
the way
it beats
in the
same way as
everyone else's?
I am only
cold
because
you tell me
to be.
I am only
vacant
because
I can't wear
my heart
on my sleeve.
⠀
boys
don't
cry
is a lie.
so,
always
recognise
the beauty
in your
broken
bones.
—an ode to all the boys on this earth.
YOU ARE READING
calm as chaos, clear as smoke ✓
Poetry❝𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯.❞ a collection of poetry. title insp: bad luck by former vandal.
