Tonight, I asked you to read my mind.
The very same mind that twists and feels
and falls and churns. It hates things
and runs from things and is terrified of things.
I asked you to answer my question.
A thing-filled question.
When answered, it stabs.
When unanswered it pesters.
what's worse, an unspoken question or an unanswered one?
It doesn't matter