Holes

I dream of diamonds
Pouring down onto me like a rain-fall.
Except I am the dirt on the ground
Unable to swallow up the treasures.
Instead, they fall on me.
Piercing my flesh.
Mocking my existence
While they are taken-up and adorned.
And I am constantly trampled.
Leaving behind imprints and scars.
Dirt.
Dry and infertile.
Unable to produce flowers or hold the roots to a tree.
I have only been good for digging holes.
Only been good for burying the dead
As he continuously enters me and attach his broken shards to my grave.
I bury the dead
I never revive. Never to bring forth love and beauty.
Only tears and mourning of a once jubilant heart.
Dirt.
How long will I endure this pain?
The tears that burn my eyes numb my desire to no longer breathe.
They hold me tight.
They assure that I can feel and that I'm still here.
They make me matter.
They keep me still, even though I want to run.
Run fast.
Away from myself and my eternal hell.
Again I loved, and again I failed.
When will I become the diamonds in my dreams?
Instead of the dirt that pales in their beams?
I am lost.
I am hurt.
I was born not a diamond.
I am nothing.