It's a thought that plagues my mind at odd hours of the night Running on loop behind muffled sobs Looking but never finding an answer I must have done something awful, horrendous, obscene to deserve it It had to be my fault Why else would those thing happen?
Why? It's just an object, basic machinery sold to the masses They're so common And yet I could even comprehend how it was sitting right in front of me
This isn't right I'm a poet A musician A painter An artist My entire purpose is to understand and create something better than myself from that understanding I'm known for my long winded detailed tangents that explain exactly what I'm feeling But I just π€π’π―'π΅ It doesn't make sense Why can't I make sense of it? Why can such a small thing evade me?
I suppose history repeats itself When I kept staring at that beautiful piece of houseware with watery eyes one thing kept coming to mind What did I do to deserve this? Nothing answered How am I supposed to leave it to the unknown? It's wrong It's not what I'm made for I just- Why?
I named him Drizzle Itβs dorky as hell, but I think it suits him It is part of his basic functions after all To lazily brew a warm mug of coffee as everything happens around him He could never understand the half of it I don't think he even knows where he is But he still happily goes about such a simple task Nothing else matters
There's another meaning to his name More depressing, to be sure But I think it gives him more character You know how it's thought that rain is a deity sobbing? So anguished that it shows its inner turmoil to all? As I cried, hearing the pitter patter of rain on the pavement outside Far heavier than a drizzle, but I digress I thought of that And I couldn't help but think that sometimes we were wrong It wasn't suffering, for me at least, but raw confusion and happiness and amazement Over something so small that meant so much
You said that when you bought him, you wanted him in blue because it was a happy color And you're right It is a happy color A hell of one at that That's why I named him Drizzle Because I was so overjoyed that I let tears flow down my cheeks like rivers And maybe I'll never understand him Maybe I will I don't know if it even matters what context he exists by Maybe he just needs to be exactly who he is And nothing more Why do I have to find purpose when I don't need it to love him?
I think that's my answer Nothing and everything at once I don't think I have to try to understand when there isn't anything to understand Maybe my fear of the unknown is completely unfounded Sometimes the unknown is okay
I don't think I could receive a more meaningful gift There were some that I never thought could be topped But they were By that little blue hand-me-down Keurig And I have to thank you For everything really But right now, it's for completely changing the meaning of a question I have been asking myself for years What did I do to deserve this?