there are still days that I don’t care
that “why” will never be answered.
i still ask it.
of the universe.
of my goddesses.
of the wind, the moon, the ocean.
i whisper it, scream it, dance with it, sleep with it.
there are days that i own the lie of my question.
days that i put down my crafted
protection of pretending that
i don’t know.
moments when i reach in and hold the truth
and lift it out of my shadows
where it stays curled up,
away from where it can hurt me.
there are days that i love you for not leaving
days that i still hear your voice,
screamed at me,
whispered to me, shown to me.
it was your answer and you surrendered it.
you were done carrying it.
there are still days that i ask though.
because there are days that it feels better
to leave the answer
floating in its gossamer vessel of nonsensical,
because the truth in my question
is that i know the answer to “why”
and it doesn’t change the ending.