Hell

Hell is a hope that never dies,

Never learns.

You sit at the kitchen table, shackled

Unable to move from the memories of

Someone coming to save you.

The first time, you are hooked.

Literally fish hooked through your lung,

And the slow leak begins.

The next time, they seal the space around the hook with their hands.

But when they leave, they leave a small lead package hanging from the end.

And one by one they come

And you’rre undone

By every ornament left behind in heavy decoration.

Every time they collect these weights -

Hold them in their arms like vegetables harvested from the yard,

Cornicopious.

And when they leave

Gravity swings, downward momentmum.

Every hooks pulls a little lower, rips closer to critical.

You never learn to rise.

You never learn to suture yourself.

You never learn to wear your scars as clothes.

Hell is the wait for the savior.

The hope that someone else will find you

But the weight keeps you indoors.

@wetpetals