You tell us you have a compass How come you always seem to be so wrong? How come we’re always so confused? How come you say north and south at the same time? How come we never arrive where we should? You tell us your compass works. Why do your eyes flit like when you don’t want to admit something? Why does your voice sound like it does, when you tell a fib? Why do you avoid my eyes, like when you are ashamed? Why does your body shift so much, like it does when you lie? You tell us you have a perfect compass. How come you never look at it? How come we are never allowed to see it? How come you can never tell us which direction we face? How come we’re always lost?
I’ve just realized most of my poetry is based on questions- Moodboard and writing by me
