Questions
I try to answer my own questions,
And thus the writing begins.
Always questioning my every though,
Leaving me immobile if I don’t jot it down.
Pen and paper for every suggestion,
I might have to ease my mind.
Often I stare blankly at my notes,
Trying to find reason.
And sometimes I find refuge,
In what this writing has begun.
Days go by and thoughts come and go,
Nights long wondering where I belong,
Screaming doesn’t help,
Only silence provides salvation,
For my mind, for my soul.
People I meet leave me with more questions,
About what they mean and if they care.
And this notebook keeps me from breaking,
With my ties to those I love.
Yet I wish one day someone would tell me,
That which I need to know.
The answers to my questions,
I will never find alone.