Aileen_Maltese


Please Tell Me

Posted on August 10, 2011

Please tell me what all of this means!
It’s confusion and pain with in my brain.
Wrapping its tentacles around my shines pulling me deeper and deeper into it.
None of it makes sense,
like when you take time to ponder why you would price something a $1.01.
None of it makes sense.
Why can’t you explain this to me?
Why can’t you tell me why?
The confusion it hurts too much to even wonder!
So why?
Tell me why do I sit her and wonder.
Why do I sit her and cry the tears of oil that leak from the old broken down Chevy in the driveway?
Why do I hurt as if a had been tied by barbed wire and dragged behind a car, its exhaust fumes filling my lungs.
What does it mean?
Why doesn’t it make any sense!
Why can’t you tell me this simple life saving fact?
Why are you the only one that gets to live?

Last edited by Aileen Maltese on August 11, 2011, 8:40 pm


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2 responses to “Please Tell Me”

  1. you wrote "sit her" twice…and you mean "sit here."

    I think the second to last long could be reduced a couple of syllables…well, actually, should be, but I can’t think of a way to make it happen so you could just leaVe it.

    Also-back at the top, I would hit "enter" after "like" in the fourth line.
    Second line-"it is"->"it’s"

    But enough with grammar.

    I can’t tell you what any of it means. I can tell you I’ve asked myself similar questions, and I can tell you I’ve stopped demanding answers. But I can’t tell what any of it means, either.
    I love the metaphors in here,too.
    But nice job describing the anguish->I felt it too.

  2. Quote"The confusion it hurts too much to even wonder!
    So why?"

    I think you might enjoy a book by Kahlil Gibran. It’s called "The Prophet".
    He delves beautifully into some of these questions. The image I always remembered from this book is that of corn, which is collected at the harvest in a violent manner. Scythes, etc. Then threshed, to get the seeds out. More violence. Then taken to the miller, to be ground into flour. More bad stuff happening to the poor corn seeds.Then thrown into the oven, and baked red hot.
    A real rough ride!

    But what comes out?

    Gibran describes it as the "sacred bread".

    You see his point? All that violence, burning, pain….. to create something beautiful, good, and essential.  

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