And Still, the Question Remains
WHY WHY WHY
The question rings out
Over and over
Like the gunshots,
Loud and insistent
No,
It’s vomited—
Like a poison I swallowed
that doesn’t belong in my body
WHY WHY WHY
The question rings out
Over and over
Like the gunshots,
Hurried and forceful
No,
It’s released—
But not like a prisoner escaping captivity,
More like the scream of a demoniac
longing for exorcism, liberation
WHY WHY WHY
The question rings out
Over and over
Like the gunshots
And then the answers come
Like the gunshots
Over and over,
Loud and insistent,
Hurried and forceful
But they don’t satisfy,
They don’t heal,
They draw more blood,
Inflicting secondary, tertiary
quaternary wounds,
Over and over…
And still, the question remains.