heart heavy with sorrow
my body always weary
mind slow and numb
my very soul aches

“Come to me,” he says
“you who are weary 
and heavy laden 
and I will give you rest.”

but my limbs grow weak
at the very thought
I am tired, so tired
and I shrink away

why be lifted up
why reach for hope
only to fall all the harder 
in the end

it’s the fall that hurts
the discouragement
the loneliness
the shame

what kind of rest is this?

arms mottled with bruises
palms studded with stones
mouthful of dust
weary to the bone

I think I’ll just stay
it’s safer down here
crawling close to the ground
at least I can survive this year

I can do this
I can show this facade
I can even feel like it’s real
…for a while

numb
quiet
no highs no lows
no imposition
invisible