Boys Don’t Cry (But I Did)

I wore my voice like armor,

Too soft to be called strong.

Taught to run from every tremble,

To act like nothing’s wrong.

I learned that love had rules and walls,

That hugs were earned, not free.

And if I liked the way he smiled,

Something was wrong with me.

They said, “Stand tall, don’t flinch, don’t feel.”

But silence doesn’t make it real.

’Cause boys don’t cry—but I did.

In the dark where I could hide it.

Tears like whispers on my skin,

For all the shame I kept inside it.

If being real made me less of a man,

Then I was never part of their plan.

But I’m still here, still soft, still lit—

Yeah, boys don’t cry… but I did.

I traced my name in fogged-up glass,

And wished that I could disappear.

Not because I wanted death—

Just to not exist, not be weird.

I kissed a dream I couldn’t say,

Buried it deep and far away.

But it still hummed beneath my ribs,

A quiet song I never played.

They said, “Real men never break or bend.”

But I won’t fake just to pretend.

’Cause boys don’t cry—but I did.

In the nights I wasn’t wanted.

Hid my heart like something wrong,

Told myself I must’ve caused it.

If love makes me less in their eyes,

Then they never saw me rise.

But I’m still here, still soft, still lit—

Yeah, boys don’t cry… but I did.

And maybe being brave

Is letting tears fall anyway.

Maybe manhood isn’t steel—

It’s the strength to actually feel.

So boys don’t cry—but I will.

And I’ll stand in it until

The world makes room for hearts like mine,

With open hands and crooked spines.

Not broken, not ashamed to admit—

That boys can cry… and I still did.