“lest the truth be known that men, are nothing more than emotional skyscrapers, built with glass infrastructures, spray painted the color of steel, And nicknamed strength, strange isn’t it, what walking contradictions we call men.”-Mark Gonzales
What is a man but the crumbling columns encircling us, I am hardly a Samson developed so far into the meaning of love, That I would give my own life to destroy the forces restraining it. However I may share feelings for my own Delilah for I too tend to end up bleeding and chained.
Most of us men give life like a gag gift, With emotion as weak as the string that holds me together. We tend to lay down our mentality for brutality in attempts to reconcile with our pasts. We are nothing but dying embers, With gazes set to the bonfires of her lighthouse. Wishes for brilliance as clear as that, Wishing for the chance one day to burn so brightly with love that she can always find her warmth and way home.
I am one of these men, A hopeless romantic with ideals of sorrow and melancholy tendencies. In a day to day world I present a false pretense of happiness, And I do laugh with meaning, But once alone, As am presently, I fall apart.
This is why I write. Take it as you will, It’s for your interpretation, for your enjoyment, and for your darkest thoughts that you instinctively deny.
I am Matt. This is my story, This is my song.
“Leonardo’s Mona Lisa is just a thousand smears of paint. Michelangelo’s David is just a million hits with a hammer. We’re all of us a million bits put together the right way. " -Chuck Palahniuk