My Name

Take off that mask. You are alone, there is no need of it in here.
Take it off now, careful though, you must cover your deepest fear.
You do not want to ruin it for there is still the dark tomorrow
Where people would scare you for a glimpse of yourself weak in sorrow.

There, put it aside where it is safe for the time being.
Here is a kerchief made for you, cry while they are sleeping.
It is dark now. Muffle your sobs, we don’t want them to hear
Of all the pain you kept inside, my brave and gallant dear.

Cry until you tire of it. Cry until you slumber.
Weep until the tears you shed are same as stars in number.
I’m here to listen to you. I’m here to understand.
In the morning, I’d still be here to wake you and make you stand.

You may not talk, but I do know, you ask me for my name.
My place have always been beside you until our names became the same.
I give you strength, I give you comfort, but I don’t need your gratitude,
I gave myself to you since birth, I am your solitude.

Where Do Men Cry?

Where Do Men Cry?

Father, where do men cry?
Or when?
If they ever do.
You guys cry,
I know.
Do you hold back?
Or hold it in?
You must let it out somehow.
Do you have to go to the restroom
And lock yourself up in a stall
Then cry silently
While sitting on a toilet bowl?

You laugh,
Is it funny?
I don’t think it is.
I think it’s pathetic,
Miserable.
Don’t furrow your brows,
Father,
Do not be cross.

I have seen you cry
Many times
Over a glass of stinking liquor
And while you puffed out smoke
From the stinking cigarette.
Father, why is it not okay
For men to weep?
Why do you feel entitled
To not let your feelings show?
Why would you rather
Destroy yourself
Than shed a few
Cleansing tears?
Is it pride, Father?
Is pride not a sin?
You told me so, Father,
Pride is a deadly sin.

I cried today, Father,
In class
As I was telling them
How much you meant to me.
It took courage, Father,
To be honest with them.
Should not men be
Honest with themselves too?
Courage does not solely
Mean not crying,
Does it?
You look like
You don’t want to agree.
You don’t have to,
Father,
Just hear what I have to say.

So where do men cry, Father?
Or when?
Or why do they pretend not to?
Tears trickle down your cheeks now.
Does it hurt,
Father?

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To my own father who told me it’s alright to let it all out.