I was a man
- M.
- Feb 2, 2022
- 1 min read
Oh, to spend
long nights oozing
on the floor,
sliding
ceramic tiles
grasping
and feverish
To be a man is
tiresome
a pale ghost
turning
afraid of
judging mirrors
On the good days
ever grinding
the struggle
the book says
on the good days
sweat is honey
On the bad days
brother,
the choker is tight
I can’t breathe
I was a man
I was a man and never a grub
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