elegy.

we all just wanna know
why?
how?
when?
so many questions, not a
single
damned
answer.
each new theory a kernel
of hope, but no more
guaranteed
of correctness
than the last
or the first
or the next.

can't you reach out,
somehow
past everything
past the grave
that isn't even there
to visit?

you wouldn't be there, anyway.
you would be
here
are you?

your silence
is
an unavoidable cruelty
althought the one certain
thing
is that you
did not
intend for it to be.

or did you?
unending
questions.

no answers.
ever.
anywhere.