Half Men (Poetry Analysis)

Hi! Welcome back to SoniaVoyage 🌻

Hydration check first, because we’re not romanticizing dehydration in this house.

It’s 10 PM, I literally just got home, and I had zero plans to write anything tonight. I’m tired, my brain is on low battery mode, and all I wanted was to exist peacefully. But of course, life said “no rest for you” and decided to give me emotional content instead. Very rude, honestly.

This poem was written in five minutes (yes, five), because it was inspired by something that literally just happened. Not even a big dramatic event, just one of those tiny moments that suddenly mess with your vibe for no reason. The kind that makes you stare at the ceiling like… why am I thinking about this.

Lately, I’ve been in this weird in-between era where interactions feel heavier than they should. Conversations that are technically normal, but somehow leave you feeling like something is missing. People who show up, but only halfway. Not sad, not angry, just mentally side-eyeing everything.

So this piece isn’t about heartbreak or trauma or anything deep-deep. It’s about emotional almosts. The kind of presence that feels warm at first, but lowkey empty if you think too much. A poem about mixed signals, indecision, and noticing patterns when you’re too tired to be delusional anymore.

Also, for this one, the analysis will be in paragraph form instead of line-by-line, because I want to yap about the overall meaning, not pretend this was some planned literary masterpiece.

Basically… I was exhausted, life was unserious, and now we have a poem.

Half Men

By Uni Sonia Yulianti

They come with interest,
not intention,
with words,
not actions.

They orbit, never land,
talk, never decide,
too coward to leave,
too lazy to stay.

Calling it “confusion”,
so they don’t admit,
they just enjoy being wanted,
and hate being honest.

Not lovers,
not even liars,
just men, emotionally unemployed,
treating attention like a personality.

POEM ANALYSIS

This poem is basically me being tired of a very specific type of person, but pretending it’s just “about men” in general so I don’t have to point fingers. It’s not really about hatred, it’s about patterns. The kind of pattern you only notice after you’ve been disappointed by the same behaviour too many times.

“Half Men” doesn’t mean men are literally incomplete. It means emotionally unfinished. People who show up with interest but not intention. They like the idea of connection, they like the attention, they like being desired, but they don’t like responsibility. They don’t like choosing. They don’t like consequences. They want the feelings without the work.

The first stanza already shows the core contradiction: interest vs intention, words vs actions. That’s the whole problem. Everything looks good on the surface. They talk well, they flirt well, they say the right things. But nothing ever materialises. It’s all potential, no direction. And that’s actually more exhausting than someone who is just clearly bad, because this type keeps you hoping.

The second stanza is about being stuck in a loop. “They orbit, never land.” That line is important. Orbit means they’re always around. Not gone, not fully present. Just hovering. Enough to be felt, not enough to be real. Talking a lot, deciding nothing. That’s why it’s frustrating. You can’t even be angry properly because technically they didn’t do anything wrong. They just didn’t do anything at all.

Then comes the most brutal part: too coward to leave, too lazy to stay. This is the emotional diagnosis. It’s not confusion. It’s fear and comfort. Fear of commitment, comfort in attention. They stay because it feels good to be wanted, but they don’t leave because that would require honesty. So they hide behind “confusion” like it’s a personality trait, when actually it’s just avoidance.

The third stanza is where the poem stops being about romance and starts being about character. Calling it confusion so they don’t have to admit they enjoy being wanted and hate being honest. That’s the real accusation. Not that they are evil, but that they are weak in a very quiet way. They choose the option that benefits them emotionally without hurting their self-image. They want to feel good without being responsible for someone else’s feelings.

And the ending is the coldest part. “Not lovers. Not even liars.” Because liars at least know what they’re doing. These people don’t even deserve that title. They’re not villains, they’re just empty. “Emotionally unemployed” is basically saying they refuse to do emotional labour. They don’t invest, they don’t build, they just consume attention. Treating attention like a personality means their entire identity is based on how people feel about them, not who they actually are.

So the poem isn’t really angry in a screaming way. It’s angry in a tired, disappointed, almost bored way. Like I’ve seen this too many times to even cry about it anymore. It’s not heartbreak, it’s disillusionment. The kind where you stop believing in excuses and start seeing patterns.

And that’s why it feels sharp. Because it’s not emotional chaos. It’s emotional clarity. It’s the moment when you realise you’re not unlucky in love, you’re just surrounded by people who haven’t grown up emotionally, and you’re done pretending that’s romantic.

Pic by Pinterest

Maybe this isn’t about “men” in general, but about a very specific type that keeps reappearing in different forms. Same energy, different person. Always interested, never intentional.

I guess this poem is just me being tired of romanticizing patterns that are actually just emotional laziness in disguise. At some point, you stop asking why, and you just start taking notes.

Anyway, this was today’s emotional documentation.

See you on the next page 🌙✨