I find myself doing like back in the day
looking for answers
between pages of poetry books.

I grabbed as many from the library
as my arms could carry
and I'm approaching them slowly...
shyly.
First because I haven't been there
for a while
Then because I'm not sure
what I'd do if I found
what I didn't even know
I was looking for.

If I find the answer
and the search is gone
what would be left?

My mama's voice echoes:
"Read the Bible, hija."
 Yeah, I know...
 but I've had better luck
 with poetry.