Questions!

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.

 

 

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