She should have never asked

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She asked me how I was.
Bad question to ask an introvert.

Long or short answer? …. Cacophony of words or mannered and pruned response…..

One has no punctuation,
grammar,
logic,
order,
and chronology.

It has no meter,
pause,
advance,
or retreat.

It has no introduction,
body,
or conclusion.

It has no theme,
context,
or background.

Coherency?
Unless your gifted with Aristotelian wisdom,
the Selflessness of Rumi,
and the prose of Khayam,
you’re not gonna’ understand a thing I am saying,
not that you’d want to anyway,
I probably sound like a freak unleashed.

Its semblance is of the schizophrenic….
on acid,
after snorting a line of Columbia’s finest,
on steroids,
fury unleashed without reservations……

Filters?
Fuck that measure of acceptability.

No holds barred,
zero fucks given,
balls to the wall,
pedal to the metal,

She’ll get my answer alright, my day has been full of questions, answers, thoughts, ponderings, meditations and struggles….voices

But then I thought,
Did she really mean it?
Did she really sincerely mean it when she asked how I was?

I guess I’m a liar because I replied “I’m well thanks”.
Truth is,
I wasn’t thankful,
I hated that she asked
and I wasn’t well.
She smiled and said “That’s good”,
and I continued the answer in my head.

-W.E.

Goldilocks and her big fucking bear!

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Even when I’m with people….

I’m not there,
Unfair,
I care,
but the snares,
the nostril flares,
the minds impair,
as they struggle to comprehend my lack of flair,
or care,
to their,
daily trivialities that I’m unaware,
of,
so I stay out of their,
hair,
how dare,
I ignore their very being,
and from being a small teddy in a corner,
I end up the big fucking bear,
sitting in the middle of the room on scrutiny’s chair.

That chair is gonna’ break,
it’s there for the take,
so for your sake,
leave me alone,
a calm lake,
before I partake,
In chaotic savagery,
heartache,
pen breaks,
soul takes,
rusty autumn rakes,
cant gather my thoughts, mistakes,
half baked,
life cakes,
burnt steaks,
no brakes,
like a mack truck,
of missile freight ,
Stop now before it’s too late,

And you meet your fate.

-W.E.

 

 

 

Loneliness – She’s a dark companion.

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This is what my loneliness companion looks like

One day when I was a boy, loneliness visited me.
It showed me the way of the world.
It promised it would not betray me like they.
As such, it has proven a noble companion.
It never strays far from my side.
Ready to take the blows of whatever anyone may throw my way.
Got words? The emptiness of my soul will allow them to pass through.
Got guns? Shoot your bullets as my invisibility fails your aim.
Got fists? The body has become numb to sensation.
Got abandonment? Thank you for adding fuel to my fire.
Got love and companionship? That’s where loneliness leaves me in a dark alley way,
Paralysed and ineffective, the cryptonite of it’s power.

-ME

Egoïste – 1

up with you

For some it’s the conversation.

For others it’s the mere presence.

And for others more, the physical chemistry is unifying.

Whatever the myriad of reasons may be, there is a person that has the ability to keep us awake and alert, pandering to whatever it is they say, do, feel or imbue.

Am I a narcissist for longing not for another human but for the paralysis of life at night where I can converse with myself and distil my thoughts?

-ME