Do you have colour in your cheeks?
Do you go to sleep remembering what you seek?
Do you recall what it was like to be corporeal,
or does it not feel like that at all?
Do you wake to find your pillow wet at night?
Do you see the wolves congregating under moonlight,
and howl at your own stupidity for staying inside?
Do you stare at the files on your desk each weekday
listlessly, and still ignore what the little voice says?
Do you know what spurs you on,
when daylight seems to herald your swan song?
Do you envy the squirrels in the park?
Do you look out the window into the dark
knowing how your eyes shine like beacons?
Do you monitor your bills and cheques,
thinking, you needn’t subject
yourself to this way of life?
Do you notice how sometimes hairs stand
up on the back of your hand,
even if you have no urge to claw or rend?
Do you expect the urges to simply end?
Do you recall what you traded it for?
Do you go to sleep remembering what you sought?
Do you look down and see how you’re caught
in a trap that’s tearing you in half?
Do you know what you caged yourself for?