I can't believe I thought that

I'm tired, but tears still do not flow. Craving to sleep forever, but afraid of nightmares, I remain 'opened eyed.' I can't believe I thought that I had to always be strong, so I became a stereotype. It's hard being a silent lion. This masculinity has literally killed me. I'm too old to be king of a jungle, so take my throne and wear my crown. My joints are too worn to hunt, but my roar is ready for expression, so let me show my vulnerability. I guess, now I'm the prey? But what made you the predator, suggesting, I am a victim? Never realised life would move so fast, nor make me so stubborn, when, in reality, I should have learned my lesson. I know I'm not a priority, I'll always be second best, but all I ask is to walk with you in fields of fairness and, maybe, just to be loved - even in small doses. If you cannot understand today, maybe you will realise tomorrow and, despite the heartache - I forgive you and take all of the blame. I'll always be a tree for you to shelter, although you have taken each and every leaf. When you are lost in the wilderness, I'll be the compass to guide you home. Before, I leave, is there a final request? I know you won't ask me to stay because in this illness, I feel worthless... Wishing my walls would fall but still, I refuse to crumble. This summer there will be no sunflowers, as all I feel is sorrow, in a sky which is blue, but raining in red.