STILL LIFE

The autumn breeze
blowing through my open window
is the only thing that makes me feel alive.

Even my self induced haze
brings no sanctuary or salvation,
no sense of being comfortably numb,
no peaceful medicated moments.

I can't help but feel
I'm waiting for something,
to break free from this inertia,
to release me from this limbo,
to save me from myself.

Yesterday is gone
and a little more of me slips away,
each day I die a little more.

Dreams and hopes fade
until they are only lost memories
of a younger me that
I finally let go as unattainable fantasies.

You get used to this life, accept it,
as it is and forget
that it can be different,
that it can be all that you make it,
and it is.

The cool night breeze blows again
through my window,
and for a moment brings me back to life.

And I realize,
still I want,
still I need,
still I believe,
still I hope,
still I dream,
but all in a still life.

I watch my cat
stop in the middle of the room
and begin to lick his fur.

Somehow.
this is significant.

October 8, 2004/March 27, 2005