You Dig Holes

I dig holes.
So that I can sit at the bottom,
So that you can sit on the bottom,
And so that we can sit on the bottom, 
Together. 

Over and over again,
I dig holes.

And I imagine how we get into the hole.
How we sit in the hole.
And that’s the only reason I dig the hole.

I use it
As a way to find out how I get myself into holes.
As a way to live out the glory of getting out,
And as a way to create conflict 
So I can solve it.
So there can be a great solution.

I find ways to get us out.
Ropes of hands to help us,
Ladders of my words to guide us,
Rocks to pile up,
To climb.

We put down rocks of anger and doubt and betrayal,
So we can climb a stack of forgiveness together.
To get out of the hole.

But usually, 
That's all in my mind. 
Sometimes, no matter how hard I try,
You stay at the bottom of the hole.

Maybe it’s my fault.
Or your fault.
Or just circumstance.

Just a tragedy in the story of the holes
That plays out in the world. 

Either way, please don’t worry.
You can always come back to another hole.
Another story,
Another person, sitting at the bottom, 
Who you tried to get out, but they just wanted to sit there. 

Just remember,
I’m not the only one with a shovel.
Sometimes I never have the shovel, you do. 

And sometimes, 
Sometimes, 
I feel like if you could,
You would bury me in that hole.

The only problem is, 
You’re in the hole as well
And you can't risk burying yourself.