Lonely

Work.

Thats what men are meant to do, right?

So I guess that’s what I should do today.

*

Head down, aimless, subordination.

*

But hey, money makes the world go round, doesn’t it?

So that’s what I’ll do.

*

And then once I get home I can spend it,

Spend it on shit that will only make me sicker. And weaker.

Shit that I’ll eat alone, and in silence.

*

In Solitude.

*

Well I guess I should lift some weights, right?

Isn’t that what they say?

*

Depressed? Pushups.

Lonely? Pushups.

Little bitch? Pushups.

*

But what if you don’t want what an attractive body can bring?

What if your heart is elsewhere?

And you know it’ll never be enough anyway?

*

Then what?

*

Do it for the strength gains, I guess.

*

Functionality, power.

*

Masculinity.

*

Be a solid man. Well rounded.

Faster, fitter, stronger.

*

And then see out the rest of your days alone.

Unable to find enjoyment.

Unable to focus on the simplest of pleasures,

Like TV or books, or sunshine walks.

*

Just tread along the edge of the void,

Day after day,

Aware of your own uselesness.

*

And wait 'til they finally come,

To pull you across the veil.

*

But at least your arms will be big.