The Lie

I was told long ago I was nothing

I was

I am.

Nothing--as the air

the sky--going nowhere to infinity

I am the sky.

No beginning

No ending

No going up or down---just---

constantly watching in eternal silence.

It never asked to be there-

to be forced to open its eye every morn

to have to see the uncaring world beneath it

it just does

it grows weary-

A forgiving God lets it rest at night;

close that burning ball of fire

and sometimes he even lets it shed tears

I only have the dried-up selfish tears left

the kind that comes to

the self-pitying soulless that I am

and my heart aches.

I weep dry tears for what is no more

for a life that I have no claim to--

A life that I never asked to be

wouldn’t choose to be--

couldn’t ever be--

part of.

I grow weary.

There is no god for me

I am granted no respite

my thousands of tears have bled me dry;

and brought me nothing but shame.

For I am weak--

spirittired

mindblank

chestempty

no more pretending to be strong.

My tears fell as the rain.

The hated-cold-dead-RAIN

that has thunder to scream out its agony-

and lightning to rip through the pain.

I stare silently at the grey skies.

And mourn.