Katrina Kaye

Left to myself,

I sink,

and allow eyes to close.

To be

still,

stone,

ever vigilant.

Left to myself,
I will cease to exist
long before death
has the nerve to
visit my doorstep.

But I resist decay
by statuing
against chaos.
I close lips,
but keep eyes peeled.

I listen,

listen,

listen.

I am not
unchanging.
I rattle

back and

forth.

Left to myself,
I will fade
long before the sun
can bleach my bones.

So I protect the beat
of my heart and

feel each
breath fill

the empty cavern
of my being.

I preserve myself.

Hibernation
is not always
about rest;
it is about

 survival.

The only way
to make it to
the next season
is to let this one pass.