Letter from the Grave

Is the ship still in its bottle.. Have your lips become dry, tired from yearning. Do you still wear my sage shirt. Are you still crying, are all those tears for me.. Are you still reading the silent one? Did you write me one last poem or is your poetic garden full of decay? Do you ever hear my voice echo in the silence. Turn around when you feel my presence? Do you call my name, forgetting I'm no longer there.. Have you lost hope, wondering where I am, if I'm watching from up above? Are you still hiding, tired from smiling, still pretending. Has life lost substance? Those shattered pieces of glass do they still reflect regret, is your heart heavier than a cliché resembling fragments of stone, do you look back at the footsteps in the sand? Do you listen to our songs, the ones we forgot to sing, where I was the chorus to the rhythm of your heartbeats. Am I still your journal? Does sunset still have meaning, do you sit there cursing the Gemini moon, does June still have a purpose? In episodes of rage are you angry that I could not fulfil my promise, do you hate me for being gone blame me for destroying our dreams, am I the reason you feel trapped? Did you cry upon my grave, place a carnation upon the soil which has buried me or do you never visit? .... Do you still love me?