Sensitive

sensitive 

you don't fight with your hands or your mouth you must be sweet, you just let them men run over you accepting defeat, as if because you're weak and feeble it deletes, the fact that you're human too, but they don't have a clue that what they say undos the wounds of childhood blues, the feeling that them boys can say whatever, do whatever and I must accept, that because I’m sensitive I’m defect, but my response to attack is much more direct, it's pent up frustration, of saddened effect, because when you use your mouth to speak words to mock the weak, all I can do is seem to weep. 

they say in this world there will be verbally violent people, but a world where we push the feeble, penetrate the thin walls of a broken man, because it's legal to assault with tongue, so young man you can't be so sensitive, representative of what it means to be a man is tough, toughest on the block, toughest to lead the flock, toughest to mock anyone that doesn't fit your description of affliction that a man should do, as if because I don't strike with fists you'll infiltrate my mind like a coup, because no event or task will ever allow you to fit in my shoes. my childhood blues of passed down vice, that because my daddy's mean to me I can't play nice, that because i need to prove I’m a man you must pay the price. little boy you're too sensitive, sentencing your body to lifelong struggle, ruffle your soul because you not a real man, real men kick, the doors to your soul because the goal is to demolish the opposition, real men shoot, shoot down your esteem in hopes of filling the wounds of ego and pride, colliding with bodies, carnal sin takes a ride, real men punch, punch in your chest in hopes of reaching your heart, so that they can dissect the source of the part that makes you so sissy, that your mind goes misty and privy to the fact that your manhood is under attack. 

i'll never let you win even though you've pinned, your weakness on me hoping that it leaves my soul to fend, for a spot in a world where men must fight, you must be slight but mighty in the fact that your ego has reached new heights. 

young man you're too sensitive, not privy to your body, not one with your hands, every ounce and inch of your body brands you as gay, that sweet little strut doesn't go away, no matter how hard you try to hide behind clothes, no matter how many times you try to pimp the hoes, because your woes are indicative of a lackluster man, you can't even stand and raise your fist to execute your makers plan, to withstand the enemies attack by fighting back, with this temple, but it could never be so simple, because I’m a test result of a disemboweled creature, my features show signs of a boy who never listened to the preacher when he said that "no weapon formed against me shall prosper" what this did is fostered my mind to put on a front, of a man who could stand up against the evil and put on a stunt, but the blunt force trauma of the unconscious mind, causes what comes out to not be so kind. 

sissy, you too weak, them tears coming out them eyes won't even let you speak, and stand up to me and check my weak ego, sissy, you're too sweet, you couldn't tear me down if you tired, you might aswell hide, because if you don't abide by our male contract, i'll contact your face with fists of fury, purely because you're too sensitive to check me, and tell me like a man that these hands gonna stand, up for myself. sissy, you can't see, that the pain inside of you won't pass onto me, but everything done against me allows me to speak, and say that you aren't a real man, you're just a fan of the patriarchy stereotype of a real man, you can't even stand to look at yourself in the mirror because sin speaks, and your pride leaks out from your mind everytime your words reek. i may be sensitive, i may be weak, but the glory i seek is in being able to have the capacity to love, the vastness of my soul coming from above, so when you attack with your words, with your body, i let you collapse my walls because my soul stands strong and affirms my beliefs i've had all along that I am a real man today, because i didn't let your hate stay, i released your claim on my life and didn't let it pain, but your soul remains stained.

copyright © micah hill 2024