Let me, tell you the truth?

You ask me one day, and I supply you with a void the size of a desert.

It's raining there for the first time, and until now the landscape has been left

it has been untouched,

now you see tiny tears fallen by the thousands and they just keep

flowing.

But who's here to see them?

The heavens won't open for you, though you are the perfect model.

But you judge, and though you may want to help I fear you'll lack the understanding

that I need; somebody who feels like I do, knows what I'm going through as my body

lies here coated with ancient dust, that of a desert.

There's nothing new here, maybe if I knew you'd stay, I'd let you in...

but who does

and who has ever.

I'll be waiting one day, when I let people walk the path I run through,

the road I've been struggling through and maybe there will be someone waiting there anyway?

Maybe you'll be there because my path will end, cease, and I'll finally have no more tears

as I've gotten rid of them all, after all how can there be any left now.

I've got my intention, just? I feel it is.

I have no authority, why do I ask, when I know you'd not do that

even when I pray, I've screamed and

the tears have fallen for you to take me.

This place feels to worthy to hold the desert.

Though I am not the desert, for the dust there has never been

disturbed.

I let it, tried to let you in. 

Regrets are great when the progress falls, as I have for years

Or my months feels like years, as the have now become so many.

I'd take it all back with one look, In a heartbeat, I'd have kept it all to myself.

I remember sitting there. You looked in despair, as I just rained all over and I scraped back, kicked up the dust.

To reveal the rock underneath.

That which I thought was strong,

It was strong while covered

by the dust, my dust, my cover,

the face I kept

so well at times, for me to smile with.

How I long to be the desert again; the rock staying strong under the dust.