tired

as the days are crossed off
one day then the next,
so too the words disintegrate,
becoming one less and less
the farther away from a dream.

i've kept my pages blank for so long.
now, they scatter around me.
and my eyes are losing their sight,
my head's getting tired -

and when i back out of view
no one seems to notice.
i will still be among the living,
but you will no longer see me.

in clothes of muted tones
i will blend in with the wall
in the faded picture of a room
once occupied but now,

vacant.