tears don’t swell up in their eyes.
the boy doesn’t cry
battered and bruised
father always said don’t wet the bed.
not with piss, but with salt water.
it’s all in your head he always says.
nobody really cares so don’t bother.
the boy didn’t cry
misguided and misued
when dad was laid to rest
he did as dad said and shed not a tear.
so now he does what seems best
and drinks a 12 pack of beer.
the boy will never cry
strong as delicate tissue
boys will be boys
and depression becomes void.
he never even got to hear his own father’s voice.
there’s no pictures of them within the same frame.
the only thing his father ever gave him was a last name.
boys don’t cry
they will never say that they miss you
they suck up the dirt of the world
create dams in their ducts.
they’d rather stab themselves
in the stomach until they’re all out of guts.
they will state themselves as virgins
that give no kind of fucks.
but the truth about us?
boys do lie.