unsent draft messages

I’m a man’s man
I don’t ask for no help
I go through hell alone and have a story to tell!
Down at the bar with my brothers every blue moon—
Cos I don’t see the need, in seeming to need to see them too soon
They don’t need to see behind the scenes and lose the mystique
Like a couple hours earlier, when I was crying alone in my bedroom

That shit is too bleak
I’d rather hide than seek a shoulder to cry on
I’m meant to be the strong one,
The one they rely on
The joker, the charmer, the rational thinker,
Part-time stoic and full-time drinker
Taking shot after shot, but I don’t tend to the wounds—
I only intend to consume
Letting nothing spill out,
Drowning out the sorrow,
Taking the pain home with interest tomorrow,
To the same room where I sat and I cried
I’ll sit again — and again I’ll ask why:

Why, why do I feel so disconnected?
Why do I feel so empty and rejected?
Why do I feel lonely when I’m rarely alone?
Why do I feel like a stranger when I sit on my own?
The guy from the bar now sat in my home—
He isn’t me
He’s a bunch of pleasantries and open-ended questions
Hoping to blend into the scene without making a scene,
He’s seen by all but completely unseen!
Shocked by it all, like some unforeseen circumstance
Even though every day, it’s the same old song and dance

I’m fine though

Cos, I’m a man’s man
I don’t ask for no help
Better to burn alone than be dragged from this hell
Can’t risk the reveal by trusting another,
By sharing how I feel with a man I call brother
Or I guess by any other name
Imagine if he knew all the darkness and pain
Would he meet my eye again or just think I’m insane?
Just think I’m insane,
He’d think I’m insane—
Man, I better stay in my lane

I’d rather reject myself and play another role
Instead of revealing the whole of me,
Revealing the hole, where my joy is supposed to be,
Revealing my soul where the ghosts reside in me,
Revealing the toll it’s taken inside of me
Instead of bleeding out, silently
I should be pleading,
Pleading—
Help me,
Help me please!
I can’t do this alone!
I can’t even pick up the phone
Cos I don’t want to be a bother—

I…

Sorry mate, got distracted
Bit noisy in here innit
My round?
Same again yeah?
Safe, no worries
Brother. 🤜🏽

…

Explainer: So I first wrote ‘The Man’ a couple of years ago, but it bothered me knowing I’d pulled punches – hinting at pain without naming it.
Fitting, I suppose, since that’s often how these conversations go.

Joke. Deflect. Buy another round.

This new version is an attempt to reveal all that.
It’s based on many convos with close mates that start light and end somewhere real – too often, long after they needed to.
It’s about the silence we keep, the show we put on, and the fear of being unmasked.
God forbid...😅