The burn on the back of my eyes, the scratchiness on the back of my throat is becoming unbearable. If I don't leave soon I don't know what I'll do, I don't know if I'll be able to talk without wavering my voice, I don't know if I'll be able to speak my mind without tears falling to my cheeks.
I can't cry.
I can't show weakness.
Crying gets you nowhere, it got her nowhere. The yelling of the very man who caused all my pain is adding a headache to my list of problems. As he yells louder I look him in his face trying to keep the flood gates of my sadness closed. He gives me a crooked look and yells: "You gonna just stand there? Are you about to cry, boy?".
I try to answer but only a staggered sigh run pass my lips. "Answer me, boy!!" the sound of thunder erupts through the room and next thing I knew I was on the floor with a red, burning handprint on my face. I look up in shock at the man who delivered the blow, as my tears beg to fall.
"You're just as pathetic as her, maybe even worse".
He leaves me on the floor breathing heavily, I quickly wipe off any tears that tried to fall because maybe he is right I am pathetic.
Cause. Real. Men. Don't. Cry.
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Hi, I'm the author, I'm gonna(or try) to write about problems with the world. This is no way, shape, or form a 100% great example and I'm sorry if I offended anyone, if you have a problem you can dm me. Thanks for reading.
