answer

there are still days that I don’t care

that “why” will never be answered.

i still ask it.

of you.

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

in silence.

days that i still hear your voice,

your answer.

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,

hidden.

because the truth in my question

is that i know the answer to “why”

and it doesn’t change the ending.