Can't you see that I care?
Underneath my propensity to vex
The more serious shit I try to correct
I cannot read minds,
and I wish you would just tell me when I stab you blind.
Despite all this why can't you see that I care?

It's like a silent storm brewing in the wake.
Filling the atmosphere with vertices of yearning to knowif you are okay.
A lot of your problems I wish I could remedy.
But I'm left helpless.
Like a bag intertwined in the hurricane winds of the constantly upgrading internal storm.

Could you ever fathom the nights I've been staring at my ceiling with you on my mind.
The shear force of thoughts of holding you would move the elasticity line.
How I yearned to smell your hair and listen to you ramble.
Even though we had no name to the game with my heart I was willing to gamble.

How could not you not receive the priority talks as a sign that I was there for you?
Is it so hard to conceive that the ignoring of my mama's calls meant that I cared for you?
How about the late nights where I passed out mid conversation?
Were the dying moments of my strength fighting exhaustion inadequate?
Should I have used that ATP on mindless thoughts of meaningless lust?
It appears that should have been the case.

The dagger in my soul jostles at the notion that I let your words slice this deep.
My armor had a chink.
A fleeting moment to allow something to enter.
A thing to penetrate and cause passion, pleasure, and pain.
You chose all three and ensured the later would go the distance.

Can't help as my soul bleeds out in the shadows of my masculinity.
The tears trickling down the inside of my flesh,
Watering lethargic soil,
And sprouting anger and madness in my soul.
I ask my myself, "If I don't care as much as she thinks,
Then why do I feel like Wyce Cleff singing to Lauryn Hill?"
*Someone please call 9-1-1*
I really don't know the deal.

How do I show her?
With every interaction, must I blow her mind?
So with the actions that I take and the words that I speak,
The thought that, "He Cares!" can intertwine.

Obviously current gestures are too weak.
Maybe if I say it until the tongue twists itself into a knot.
Maybe if I get some sidewalk chalk and cover an entire block;
Pedestrians would pass by conversing like,
"Man those two words mean so much."
"Who woulda thought?"

Maybe if I become an astronaut,
Venture to a foreign celestial body,
Use the resources on the new planet,
And inscribe it among the stars.
Maybe if I slaughter entire nations in the sake of your happiness,
Gentrified entire hoods,
Committed genocide in all the world's villages,
Could you see if I went that far?

What if I said that you matter because I will share respect for you as long as long as the wind blows?
What if I started singing "As" until tears stream my face and mucous spews out my nose?
I don't think any action I choose could express the depth in which I do.
If you asked me straight-up though,
I'm sure an illustration could be conceived on how much I really care for you.

Or maybe we could compromise, and come to a conclusion
On how you want to be shown and end the convolution.