Still Heart

I stand on top of a high cliff, witnessing the
world as it struggles to live every day.
My heart is steady, it beats, it is alive.
But in the same moment it is still.
My heart is motionless in my chest,
a cold piece of flesh yearning for life.
Why does it not beat? Why does it hurt?
The blood in my veins is like ice water,
not even the warm wind blowing through
my hair and sliding across my skin can help.
Every breath feels like a stolen wish, a cheap lie.
My body is stone, I have watched the world
from my cliff for thousands of years; I'm silence.
I do not drift away, I do not close my eyes.
I stand still and I wait; I wait into forever.
I don't understand why I wait, or why I am still.
What do I hold my breath for? What makes my
still heart throb with longing? Why do I wait?
My questions fall on the empty wind, I continue to
be still as stone, waiting for my heart to beat.