Yes.
Is that your answer?
It is mine.
Too bad you don't care.

The question?
You never listen.
All you want is the answer.
Not my question.

Do you care?
No.
Me?
Yes.

I do care.
I want to know.
I need to know.
You?

No.
You couldn't care less.
Yes.
That's the truth.
Who cares about the truth?
Me.
I care.
Yes.

Me.
Finaly.
I do want answers.
But I want questions too.
Yes.

Questions open the mind.
The heart.
The soul.
The person inside.

They all shine through.
Questions.
Mine.
Yours.
You want answers.
I want questions.

Real questions.
Insightful ones.
Pure ones.
True.
Innocent.
Yours?

Yes.
I want yours.
Your real ones.
Not the fake.
The show.
What others hear.

I hear the real question.
The underlying meanings.
Yes.
I listen.
I do.

Most don't.
They only hear
What they want.
Not what's really there.
What really matters.

Not the show.
What's backstage.
Behind the scenes.
The real magic.
Yes.
It is there.
I've found it.

Why
What did I do?
I love you.
You love them.
She loves you.
At least....

She says she does.
You two seem perfect.
A cady coated happy ending.
Thats what it seems.
What about me?
Where's my love?

Him?
He loves me?
Do I love him?
I don't think so.
He's not easy to love.
Not many good qualities.
No special abilities.
Why should I get him?
He also loves another.

Why are we together?
Should I end it?
Why?
Can't I choose?
Don't I deserve happiness?
Don't I?

Why not?
Did I do something?
Are you more deserving?
Do you even love her?
I know you love another.

I know.
She doesn't.
I do.
What should I do?
Should I tell her?
Why does the thought,
Break my heart?

Why do you break my
lonely heart?
Am I broken?
Can I be fixed?
What's wrong?
Why?

Why does she chase you?
We both know we can't have you.
Why try?
Because we feel.
More than ever before.
At least that's how it is for me.

For her.
I think it's an obsession.
A race.
Who gets him?
Her.
That's what she thinks.
That's what she says.
She mocks me.
She hates me.
She loves me?

As a friend, she says.
But really?
Is that true?
No.
She hates me.
More than I hate myself
for loving him
more than I should.
Why?

That's my question.
Why?
Because everyone understands.
Not me.
I ask why.
Because I wish to know.
To be the one who
truly knows
who understands it all.

Knows.
Why?
How?
When?
Where?
Here.
That's where.
How?
I do not know yet.
When?
Now!
Always!
Forever I will ask
my questions.
Will haunt you.
Forever.
Why?

Because I wish them to.
Because I say so.
Me.
My decision.
Mine.
No one else's.
No one.
Just me.
Why?

I need them to.
So I will be remembered.
Not as a nothing.
A normal girl.
But that's not me.
I am the girl with questions.
Always questioning.
Always.
Forever.