The Hardest Question
Why?
Thats the hardest question.
When is easier. It was after.
After the baby, cacooned safely
inside of me. After she died.
Why?
Again its too hard.
Who is easier. It was him.
He who promised to love me,
for better and for worse.
Why?
That question's too difficult
Where is easier. In our room.
Our room with the cot in the
corner. It was for her.
Why?
Is still don't know.
What is easier. It was a knife.
A knife which slit, cut and stabbed
at my throat and stomach.
Why?
I can't remember!
How is easier. With a casual
indifference. The anger had
dissapeared.
Why?
Because of me. Because I killed
our baby girl. Not born, never born.
The pills had taken her.
Like he took me.
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