How do the flowers wilt when the rain still falls cold? When did our minds forget birthday five? Why does the camera never capture your face?
We don’t search for answers while intertwined, bodies pushing into each other’s space. Those questions bring us an open expense to never stop running, hands in hands.
Through the guilt, slow beginnings, and dirty screams, the road never ends, and we keep on asking.
Why did it take us so long to understand what we wanted? Who taught us what love should be? How do we show half the world they are already what they are meant to be?
Questions keep us fighting. They keep our voices loud as the tide comes in. Our world has never been one to make it easy, but we have never been ones to back down.
What is the space between our identity and palatability? When did our bodies become the worlds? Where do we go when no one stands by our side?
What is our story, but a lesson to the majority full of laughter and disdain? Look away. Block our words. Avoid the topics that make your chest tight. We don’t need answers, but we will continue to question until there is no reason to fight anymore.