For the Women

i don't blame you,
for being what you are.
perhaps in your head,
rationale is different.
perhaps in your head,
the moves you make,
don't hurt anyone,
and make sense,
more than this world.
you are beautiful creatures.
capable of bringing a man down
to his knees
and withdrawing into himself,
but we cannot show you that,
you've been blessed with beauty,
and we have been burdened with a brain.
our thoughts are constantly racing,
changing
manipulating
figuring
working
and fighting
we are machines made for one specific purpose
be it
writing
cooking
fucking
joking
or
bumming.
i think,
perhaps,
we look at ourselves as men
with a penis
and women
with a vagina (such a beautiful word)
and not as humans
with feelings
and emotions
i stick my penis
in your vagina
and everything else
is rudimentary.
simple and clean,
not too messy,
if it is all taken at face value,
you can never lose that inner being,
if there is one to begin with.
but if i stare into your eyes
and express a single emotion,
i am automatically canceled
out
of
our equation.
i appear weak,
timid,
and too open.
having to be Cary Grant all the time is
exhausting
but you love it,
don't you???
you ask for so much.
that's the finer point in life,
asking for everything,
but never getting it.
that longing feeling
that sticks in your side,
is like the thunderbolt from god
shoved right up your ass
it hurts
but awakens your heart