Tonight, the questions keep on coming.
Like the rain, drops slowly pouring in to your open window.
You ask, you beg, you pray, you yell, you surrender.
Still, the questions remain unanswered.
With the whys contradicting the hows, each time leaving you more confused than the last.
Stillness of the earth, inviting, keeping you afloat. Repeatedly, you ask.
Where do you go? What do you do?
The faint echoes of silence nudging, depriving, reminding.
And tonight, the questions keep on coming — beating on what’s left of your battle worn heart.
Time is up.
caffeinated sonnets 