These Are Not Questions

Have you felt like you are pumping
debris into a vacuum.
Yelling through a gramophone
into an empty room.
And outside,
Everyone is talking at once.
Have you felt like putting it all down.
and rebellion rebelling against itself.
Have you felt the war.
The put the pen down.
The put the voice down.
The never pick it up again.
The why try. The overload. The can’t stop.
Have you known how to share
fragments of you, without
breaking into pieces yourself.
Have you found answers.
Because these are not questions.
-Akotowaa
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2 thoughts on “These Are Not Questions

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