Do you see me?
Standing in the shadows.
Watching you limp by.
Loathing the fact that I drove you to using your cane once more.
Do you feel me?
Holding my breath
As you pass by on your way to work
Just a little too close for comfort.
Do you hear me?
Almost giving myself away
As I see you break down at my grave
Losing yourself in (un)necessary grief.
Do you sense me?
Watching you as you return home
Looking tired and drained
After a long day at work.
Do you know me?
Do you still believe?
Believe that I am good and right
And that none of this was a lie.
Do you want me?
To come back from the dead.
I mean, really. Is that what you want?
You and me back together?
Do you love me?
Enough to forgive.
Forgive what I put you through.
The grief, the pain, the loss, the cane.
The months and years of emptiness.
Can you forgive that, John?