Growing up I always had a helping hand, my corner was always filled with loving Family and friends willing to stop what they were doing, for me. Willing to go the extra mile, but as my "age mileage" increased, its only logical that those helping hands decrease.
Now its real, and now I'm a man, with one in my corner. Yes we are on a rollercoaster and we are holding on tight, but we hit a few drops n now she is so sick to her stomach that her emotions pour out like "word vomit" from all the ups n downs the "ride" has taken her on. Aiming her "word vomit" towards me, and now I'm a mess. The only way to clean myself on this ride is to remove the layers I have on.
So, I begin to take of my shirt and show her my heart...
I take off my hat so she can see what's on my mind...
I take of my pants so we can................Wait! not here...
You see, in order to make it on this ride one must "take off their cool".
Those clothes are how I want to be perceived, I dress that way and become similar to everyone else, but the reality is the only thing cool about me is what lies beneath,
And all she needs to heal her sickness is just that
...the real me.
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