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Have you ever seen me not holding the past in my hand and waiting?

Have you ever seen me not waving to the future with a bleak eye for the present even with that big bright color of dim blue and yellow, the future means nothing to me now?

Have you ever felt that I’m waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you seen me not living the moment I was dead and dying the moment I was alive?

Have you not felt that I’m not waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you not seen that all the bright and light that I felt would probably make me someday right was in vain and never gave a meaning to my lifelong fight?

Have you not felt that I was through with you, I am living you?

Have you not known that this is the last time I send you a message through a work of art and write about what has kept me mute all this life?

Have you not known that I’m waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you felt that the books on my table, the one I read and the other one that I wrote and I read both more than a million times?

Have you not read them?

Have you not written the first and were answered the next, but neither have you read?

Have you not known that I’m waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you not seen it, choked, my song, and my hair gone too long?

Have you not looked deeply into my eyes and seen that I am here no more?

Have you not seen that the past is gone and the present is not staying for long?

Have you not seen the future is lost and all the hope I’m holding is mere frost, have you not seen all that?

Have you not known that I’m waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you not noticed the rope on my table, you couldn’t have guessed I would use it for wrapping the loose ends of my bags, but my life?

Have you not read the warning on my face, “It is the realm of Hades where no traveler ever returned”?

Have you not heard the songs were silenced and the horn was not even blown?

Have you not known?

Have you not believed the sweetest part of the rose was the thorn?

Have you not known?

Have you not seen your child waiting in me for a hundred years never wanting to be born?

Have you not known?

Have you not listened to me crying, to a life of no life what I have sworn?

Have you not known that I have already left home?

Have you not noticed that the days of homelessness could have never left me alone?

Have you not known that I’m waiting for you no more, I am living you?

Have you not noticed that it is me not you, the big bone?

Have you not known that I died centuries ago, and that’s just the haunted spirit of my own?

Have you not known any better than leaving home?

Have you not known that I am living you, I am you, but I’m still not home?

Have you not known that I will never be home?

Have you not known that I am bound to a life of no life where I am left definitely, totally, completely alone?

March 20, 2010

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