Past and Future

I wasn't building love— I was building a judge. …and yeah— That’s f***in’ dumb. [Hook] I wanted certainty, I bought control. I wanted safety, built armor outta fear—now it cuts me. Past taught me “don’t get trapped,” future said “don’t get left,” So I kept my guard up, called it “high standards,” “self-respect.” [Verse 2] Now anger. Not the “we disagree” type— I mean flooded, where logic dies, where your chest gets tight. I don’t wake up looking for war, I wake up trying to connect, But when my words hit a wall too many times, something in me cracks. It’s not rage—it’s the sound of being ignored too long, A man yelling through a locked door, begging to be heard. Because when certainty invalidates you, you start feeling unreal, Like your needs got erased but you’re still expected to heal. Frustration turns to last-resort emotion, raw, unpretty— Then it becomes proof I’m the problem, not the pain underneath me. And it felt like this: calm voice, sharp knife. Covert disrespect cuts deeper than the loud kind in the light. But society sees volume and assigns guilt quick— Dudes can’t show anger, those are the rules—sick. So I’m loud, I’m “unsafe,” I’m “intimidation,” While the quiet dismissal gets framed as “good communication.” [Bridge / Note to self] If I feel unheard—say it earlier. Don’t stockpile resentment. If the pattern shows—walk away before I’m weaponized as the lesson. If someone wanted to meet my need, they would. I can ask… but I can’t beg them into being good. [Outro] So here’s the real question: Do my needs feel weak… or do I just fear being seen? Am I avoiding “neediness,” or avoiding intimacy? If I’m this candid, will they call it reflection— Or judge it next to the safest version of emotion? Either way… This is me trying to stop the past from writing my future in the same ink.