Oh questions! so many questions!
they come in droves
won’t even wait for me to come home
they haunt my dreams
they hate that I drink too much
they hate that I sleep too much
they hate that I am in love
but sometimes they are cheeky
and meant to hurt
guised as idle curiousity of a loved one
they garner our secrets
dig them out from underground
and display it promptly
over the wreckage of our trust and innocence
Oh questions! such questions!
these brutal things
without honour, without an end.