Don't you know
I won't tell you unless you ask.

You may even need to ask twice
if you want the full answer.
My dear, I don't want to burden you.

I want you to ask me and mean it.

It's simple.
I guess meaningful sentences always only need three words.

Like, I love you.

How I long for you to ask me.
My answer is well rehearsed.
I've been wanting to divulge to you for a while now.

But don't you know
I won't tell you unless you ask.

How are you?

Perhaps one day I’ll look back knowingly
And smile with a twinge of sadness because you never fully forget the angst.
They don’t explicitly talk about it, you know.

The Angst.

The keepers of comfort shield the hopeful eyes from the sad truth.
Do they know it’s universal?
No wonder there’s hype over anesthetics.

“Let’s distract ourselves!”
Okay!

You can’t hide from what’s inside of you, you know.
“But you’ll learn one day, little girl.
Oh, little girl, one day you’ll understand.”

Okay!

Perhaps one day.

Oh the mastery we have over other creatures
Our minds, our wisdom, the power.
The detriment.
It's nothing more.

The longing happiness.
It rips at my insides.
Tearing away at my last shreds of innocence.

Oh to be young!
To be a dog!

Is it primal desires that should motivate us all?
Our instincts locked away blocked by the abandoned basement door.

Never to reach the surface.

We lock away ourselves as we lock away our happiness.

It's amazing-- the longing look in a person's eyes,
envious of animals and their soul encompassing instincts.

Do they know happiness?

The questions we ask bear the weight of our compulsions clawing their way through our heart, hoping to get through.  
Oh, the pain these questions have-
The pain that claws at my heart.