Why: an early poem

Why

When my world falls apart,
          and the world’s full of lies;
          why are you at my door?
When I don’t know who I am
          or if I’m fit to live;
          why do I find you here?
When I held a razor to your throat,
          and cried to the dark of the moon;
          why did you stay?


Ariel
August 1991