How is she?
They ask, everywhere I go.
Sometimes I answer.
It’s hard. They’re trying something new. We still don’t know.
And sometimes I don’t.
Fine, thank god.
They want to know news, they want to know progress…they want to know black and white.
I confide in some.
I deflect others.
Mostly, I seethe.
I know everyone means well.
I mean well sometimes too.
How is she?
But do you really want to know?
How is she?
I don’t know.
So tell me dear, dear sister.
How are you?
I bet it hurts.
I bet it’s really bad.
I bet you don’t even know how to explain it to me.
I bet you don’t even want to try.
I bet you want to close your eyes and wake up when it’s over.
I bet you want to travel back in time.
I bet you want me to stop asking you how the hell you are.
I’m fine.
You say it always.
And I wish I could answer you honestly.
You don’t have to be.
Colloquially Speaking 