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Making Excuses
Life goes on without me,
My role is easy to replace,
It's not such a loss
When aside I toss
The duties common to the human race.
I need to find a place,
Somewhere I find in me more worth,
Something fit for me-
The worst job I see
Meant for the lowest of all on earth.
Who am I to fool by trying to amount
To anything at all?
Even nothingness is too good an aim for me,
So lower than nothing I shall fall.
That almost sounds like
I'm still holding on,
Slipping, but not letting myself
Fall down all the way,
As if I'm too good to be below anything
Let alone under nothing to stay.
What I mean, which you'll never know,
Even though I tell you right out loud,
Is that I'll lie on a pyre
Of nothingnes, with lost hopes,
The absence of which will be my shroud.
It still seems too good a death for me,
But you tell me what less than nothingness be.
By fearing nothing you fear everything . . .
. . .Fear me . . .
Paradox is my salvation.
Nothing is all I'll ever be-
It is everything to me,
My revelation.
