I Want to Cry, Man

By Frank Guru

I want to cry, man.

I really do.

But I don't know how to tell you that

without sounding weak,

without making you look at me

the way men are taught to fear—

with pity in your eyes

and questions on your lips.

So don't ask me what's wrong.

Not yet.

Just sit with me.

Because I have spent so long

telling everyone I'm alright

that I think I have forgotten

what “alright” is supposed to feel like.

You see me laugh,

don't you?

That's the trouble with laughter.

It makes a convincing disguise.

I have become rather good at it—

smiling at the right moments,

making jokes when the room gets heavy,

carrying conversations

so nobody notices

how desperately I want someone

to ask me to stop pretending.

And yes,

I know you care.

I know you care

but I just never care about myself enough

to notice that I matter

because my feelings are nonexistent.

Or perhaps they aren't nonexistent.

Perhaps I have simply buried them

so deeply

that even I cannot find them anymore.

I feel things, man.

God, I feel things.

I just don't know what to do with them.

So I swallow them.

Every disappointment.

Every fear.

Every goodbye.

Every night I wished someone

would notice I wasn't okay.

I swallow them all

until my chest feels crowded

with words that never found a mouth.

And sometimes I wonder

what would happen

if I stopped being strong.

If, for once,

I admitted that I am tired.

Not the kind of tired

sleep can cure.

I mean tired of carrying myself

like I am not heavy.

Tired of being everyone's shelter

while secretly praying

for somewhere to hide from the rain.

You know what hurts?

Sometimes I don't even want advice.

I don't need you to fix me.

I just want to say,

“Man, this hurts,”

and not have to apologise

for hurting.

I want to sit beside someone

and let the silence speak

without feeling ashamed of it.

I want someone to understand

that sometimes a man doesn't need

a solution.

Sometimes he just needs permission

to be human.

So if I ever go quiet,

don't mistake it for peace.

If I laugh too loudly,

don't assume I'm happy.

If I say, “I'm good,”

maybe ask me twice.

And if I finally tell you

that I'm not—

please don't make me regret

having trusted you with the truth.

Because I have spent years

building walls around a heart

I was never taught how to hold.

And tonight,

for just a moment,

I think I want to put the bricks down.

I think I want to be honest.

I think I want to cry, man.

But tears have always stood at the corner of my eye

but they never fall

because why should I cry

I am a man....