Blink,
That brief darkness
Gifts you a moment
Interestingly
One of clarity
Where have you been
Did you really disappear
Or, was it
A moment to turn again
But return to...

Who?
Eyes pressed against me
Exposed from the darkness
What?
Things I thought were behind me
Brought to light from the darkness
When?
A period of my life
That I hid in the darkness
Where?
Was I trapped or lost
Travelling throughout the darkness
How?
The only way I can think
Is because of the darkness

It only makes sense
These extensions to fairly
Easy questions?
Or is it that I've always been here
You're the one blinking
Through the dark
Or am I just
Freaking out over
Something simply explained as
Blinking.

How do I beat writers block?
How do I scale a wall,
Google won't give me answers at all.

How do I fix a broken star?
How do I mend a shattered dream,
Is the answer hidden in the stream?

Tell me;

when does the suffering end, when does the weight lift up,
of waiting on unanswered prayers? Who else is out there to
place all the blame on, when your self-blamed self blames
you right back?  

who do you believe in less, firstly - God or yourself?
When facing all of the four walls, whose pinned up walls
stand much stronger? Who is fed firstly – an empty stomach,
or your poverty’s hunger?

For I am beginning to rest myself on canine sugars – a mutt
chasing after the sweetness of biting their own tail. Whereas
your daily bread seems to have gone a bit stale!

I’m not ready to die; but then again – I’m not so willing
to stay. And that makes for this to be… a scary prayer!

When asked about how to earn confidence and respect,
An old rail monopolist answered the following;

'When in interest and pursuit of respect,
A peaceful man must learn how to wield a sword.
Whether or not that may be figuratively or literally,
The quietest must teach themselves to yell the loudest.
Then once they are fit to chase away the thunder storms,
To slaughter the lightning and winds,
They have earned confidence and respect within.'

In my heart
Questions arise,
Questions I ask a thousand times
What am I good for
Do I try for nothing
All I ask is to understand why
Why am I so unlucky
Tears flow from my heart
One I cannot explain
Where am I supposed to go
I'm lost.

In this realm
I see only pain,
Pain even in happiness
Do I belong here
Am I worth anything
All these questions ***** me
They are all I ask.

Give me a reason to keep trying
My heart wishes to know,
Do I give up
Do I keep pushing
Every word I know disappeared
They vanished like smoke
To this day names cling to me
Worthless, useless, clumsy
Fears I hoped died a long time ago
They resurface
All I do now is doubt
I doubt I belong
© Adiela Michael

Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Why do you spend you evenings,
Dredging in the yard?

Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Does this break your heart,
That nobody else wanted to do the ***** work,
So they left you to shovel through the mud?

Questions are vital,
Life thrives on questioning—
Yourself, others, the world.
Without questions, you cannot grow,
You cannot think,
For questions ignite thought,
And thought fuels change.

Yet, there are those in power,
Strong in might but fragile in mind,
Afraid of questions.
They silence voices,
Suppress bright minds,
Youthful minds,
Minds that dare to ask,
"Why?" and "What if?"

Across the epochs of history,
There have always been
The brave who question
And the fearful who evade.

Do not be afraid.
Raise your questions boldly.
For it is through questioning
That you challenge rigid thinking,
That you confront the immovable,
Even the most powerful.

Raise your voice,
And let your questions
Shape a better tomorrow.

10-2-24   4:21pm

do you think about me
as much as I think about you

do you wonder about
those unanswered questions
or what could have been


do you think about
the night we met
and how we were talking about
the universe
or that time during dinner
you told me the wind
blew through my hair
at the perfect moment


where did I go wrong
or were you scared
did I say something wrong
did I do something wrong
I just want to know

I wish it didn't have to end like that

we weren't right for each other

I have to remind myself that
but I'm still sad
am I allowed to be?


I'll never see him again

Would you still want a touch of a garment to Heaven, even if
it kills you? Ten thousand steps away from Heaven – I could be
on my nine hundred and ninety nineth step; but the question is
would I get in without an invitation?

Would you still fall asleep, even if you wound up resting right
next to death – given a limit to your air, would you start to count
your breaths? In the end, I hope my eyes pray whenever they blink,
and my heart silently repents for their lips "good" reputation.

I hear the eery songs of sirens; my own voices in my head – that
are acting like background singers and the Devil's ****** advice.
Do I feel alive doing the things that risk my own life; mixing
desires with passion – a bit of too much passion in my own desires.
Twelve speed racing to smile, but sometimes I despise being so
nice.

Sometimes I'm a world built on lies; sometimes I lie on top of those
years long gone – the grass that's greener on the other side, I just
want to enjoy the scent of that freshly cut lawn.

I used to ask so many questions,
hoping to uncover my past, her past, their past.

I was never as afraid as I should’ve been,
of the answers that had waited dormant
gathering dust in her mind

The more answers given to me, the less I wanted to know,

the more I wished I never knew,

the more I mourned the sins of his past

the more I allowed my questions to cease.

In her words, full of sharp honesty, reluctant to fulfill my requests,

my wide-eyed wonder died, making way for a quiet adult, burdened with the trauma of three generations.