when there is no more

the world is filled with wisdom and sometimes it hits the mark, but just sometimes, and i am filled with the world and my subset of lies and truths is smaller than the total and is pathetic and almost completely worthless, for there is no good in me, no searching for truth, no desire for God, no love for man, but i labor on because quitting was specifically forbidden by my mother and displeasing mother hurts worse than failure and i'm all about avoiding pain i can see

then someone said in words i could understand that i didn't need to labor in darkness and that light was easy to obtain, and by easy they meant i would find it only as a child, with a sense of bankruptcy of ability, with a sense that i am totally incapable and should be for the forseeable future and so i needed someone else to come along and do it for me, not help me, but to do it in my place on my behalf because i cannot and will not and don't want to anyway, and i believed them when they said it and i reached out my hand and said i needed whatever that doing was and would he do it and make it done forever so i could quit hurting myself and hurting those i thought i loved and quit trying so hard and failing

and he did, and the whole world he took from my shoulders, my weak and failing and narrow shoulders, was just the littlest piece once he had it in his hand and showed it to me and i knew i need never worry about burdens again and i was so happy and so relieved and i felt so alive, i had been dead and now i was alive and it felt that way, too, that's how i would have described it, being alive after being dead for so long

and now, i find i've tried to carry that burden again, i've tied it together and hoisted it up and slung it onto my shoulders and now i notice it again and i wonder why i went wrong when he made it all so clear

i am almost a child again, almost ready to tell him to take it away again, but i am a fool and it is not quite yet