To Go Fly A Kite

i am a question

the flicker of the Christmas lights gave me these recollections of being a few kilometers away from home.

the road is long and the pitch-black sky stares at me.

"why are you alone?" it poked fun.

"why does my presence need a company?" i replied in my head, doubtlessly aiming at a response telling me if i am not enoughㅡby myself.

i have always been the kind of guy who answers questions with also a question. i figured how plain a conversation is to indulge the person with what they need rather than incite them to dig deeper and let them show you the deep-seated truth ingrained upon their queries.

i am an anatomy of questions, they say, of monsters that most people don't want to bother asking, of tragedies i had myself spellbound. and that's how things have been since she left me. i grew into this person who asks so many things:

why. why. why the freaking why?? spill it out and stop wasting my time. head straight to the truth. why did you suddenly stop seeing me? chatting me? appreciating... this?!

my life has been bogged down with frequently asked questions she never even bothered answering. it has always been in circles that it is for me to know and her to find out. i have turned into a sentence with no period ever since and she left me with a semi-colon, trying to tell me i should keep going when she has left me hanging; i have turned into a sentence with no declaration, no definition, meaning or action that defines her inaction; until then, i have turned into a question. waiting for another question to battle me and the truth i try not to confide in.

would you be that question?

for the very last time, if you can't say so,

would you answer this question?
of me as a question?

the flicker of the Christmas lights grew faster in distance. they gave me again these recollections of being a few kilometers away from you... even though you're not home anymore.