"whywhywhy" poems
I would humbly put forth the idea, quite prostrate, that it would do us some good if we were to put aside, for a time, our epistemological certainties and archetypal savior fixations and, instead, opt for a more robust, ocher-hued ontological preeminence: putting the what before the why.
Only then can one, say, sip hot herbal tea from an old pink bone china teacup and, without thinking about all the things all the time, for once -just- feel the sun's warmth on your aged face as it begins its set over a half-eaten cotton candy sky that is epic af and reminds you of Peter Pan and then Robin Williams and then whywhywhy and then something random and weirrrd, and, in doing so, you can watch the lack of shittogetherness, of which duly occupies the very seat of your character like a bully usurper that hits you bc "he loves you," melt into a very (very) temporary oblivion and revel in what is before you without feeling paralyzing angst that is, usually, soo angst-y that you gotta pronounce that **** in German as if you were Schopenhauerly sitting at some non-descript desk in some non-descript room with your hand stroking your truly descript crazygeniusguy hair that is some kind of proto-Wolverine hairdo (and you wonder if Stan Lee was cryptically tipping his cap to S's philosophical pessimism with this peculiar gesture; consider googling it but don't because you've already googled too much sheeyt today), thinking (or brooding) about how much of a ******** Descartes is with his whole, yuhknow, theory about some ******* secret nanoputian angelic chemist that sits at the pearly gates of the Pineal Gland and performs the sacred transduction of the divine ghost, or whatever. Otherwise you are, like, consumed with analysis, which is a complete ******* bore and - let's face it - a thoroughly transparent attempt to sound smarter than you actually are.
This herbal tea I'm currently drinking has "rose hips" in it. Dear botany, that image is fun.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
The ghosts in my head are threatening to take shape
Thoughts covered in so much caution tape
I mutter softly out loud
Muttering things that set me apart from the crowd
Wondering whywhywhy
As I stare into the deep blue sky
All the clouds somehow all look like her
The lines between thought and reality start to blur
It all swirls round in my head
A raging storm of confusion and dread
Jolts of emotion course through my heart
And its tearing me apart
Being pulled in all directions
All memories bring me to the same blocked intersection
Wondering how the hell we got here
Driven by love passion and fear
Then she left and walked away
She always used to stay
But I'm getting the hint that She's not coming back
And I'm in this state of permanent heart attack
Its been like Three weeks and seven days
And i still can't forget her gaze
Sweet poison tinged ecstasy
As i try to live this relive this deranged fantasy
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 10:41 PM UTC
You love me?
no.
But you want me.
yes that's it
you want me.
because when i'm with you
i am small.
i can't help but be a different person.
someone who likes to be told what to do.
i get my fix of sorry feeling.
i get to be punished and pulled apart
until i'm nothing but your words and ideas
i deserve to feel like trash.
i deserve to be your pet.
you ground me.
second guessing every move is intoxicating.
being unsure makes rattles my chest
keeps me on my feet and somewhat scared
of you
and of what can happen
if i keep on listening
saying no feels wrong but still you coddle me
asking why and disappearing to let me know
i have things to work out.
i'm a mess
you foster this in me by speaking empathy.
youre a mess too.
lets be a mess together.
you know
people could call this abuse
but somehow for some godforsaken reason
i eat it up
for those few moments you make me feel good
you tell me who i am
i need that right now
i need you to tell me who i am
over analyze my every word
tell me my symptoms
lets bask in our insane abilities
where your knowledge gives you the upper foot
why do i want you
why do i want this
whywhywhy do i NEED it some days more then others
your validation is a terrible drug
i can't stand it
leave me alone but
don't leave me
I'm sorry
it won't happen again
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
I want to know whywhywhywhy did he flush our friendship down the drain.
What I mean is, whywhywhywhy don't you love me?
We sit down with our coffees.
I cannot remember who paid. I think I did. Why? You hurt me, I pay for your coffee? I remember feeling awkward, feeling bad. I want you to like me. I hope, maybe, if I pay for your coffee, you'll pay for mine another time… You'll want to see me again.
You'll want to have coffee with me.
Again.
I don't know that yet, but we only have coffee once more after that, months later. We do not talk about anything in particular. It will break my heart again. But I will get back up. I will gather my heart and let it grow stronger. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.
When we sit down, I realize I made a mistake.
You do not want to be there.
I am on the defensive. Afraid.
I have been burned by you, and I do not know why I hope you won't try to burn me again.
This coffee talk leads nowhere.
I backtrack, I want to go forward but I backtrack and we talk nonsense for an hour.
Nothing that should be talked about is talked about. Everything stays hidden in the shadows, together we walk the 'enchanted' walk where everything is beautiful and everything is fine. The broken pavement where I lay my heart to die stays beneath the ashes of what-we-should-have-talked-about.
We never talk about that coffee ever again.
I do not think either of us mind.
There are darker things buried in all of us.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC
waking up with the carpet imprinted into my cheek
wondering where the hell the night went
wondering why I said what I said to you
whywhywhy
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC