Like insistent lovers,
Some questions muscle their way into our lives,
Shove their assumptions down our throats,
Casually peek up the skirts of our unknowns.

And when we come into our own,
Fit a small peace in the puzzle at hand,

The intruders smirk,
Hurtle us to further places we’re not ready to go.
Not satisfied with the patient progress
Of lingering, waiting, exploring each life step,
They push us toward the next and the next and the next and the next

We tire and revolt
Their liberal peppering sprays us
Into quiet submission
As we wait for the probing to end
The damage of all that pressure
Bursts our lives wide like frozen pipes
And traces our eyes in soul scars
That shock the meddlers into a hush

Until they target the next young pup.