the quiet one

i am the quiet one,
the one without words,
without questions.
i am the lone figure,
watching,
listening,
turning to stone.
make me invisible, please;
i don't want to be this stone statue,
an increasing weight of purposelessness and solitude upon me.
i envy the cat
sprawled comfortably on the floor,
or under the table,
or amongst the visiting shoes.
it doesn't have to take part in the conversation,
but still gets to be petted and played with.
it can curl up and go to sleep
without offending anyone,
when the words lose all meaning.