you seized on the opportunity
to tell me what i ought to believe
while my best friend
lay dead on a hospital bed.
pulled me aside, lead me into
a sterilized room,
asked if you could pray
for the both of us.

you told me you feared
for my immortal soul
while his body
was still growing cold.

later that week, at the funeral
you twisted his memory,
trying in vain
to manipulate me.
you said he prayed for me daily
but the god you share,
in his “perfect timing,”
took him far too ******* early.

you told me he feared
for my immortal soul
while the mortician
incinerated him whole.

no respite
from the fictions you spin.
no solace
in the arms of religion.
doomed to wander
a hollow shell,
you make this earth
an existential hell.

i have no fear
for my imaginary soul.
everything ends,
absorbed into a black-hole.

so many snake-oil peddlers—
bite back down
on your forked tongues,
shear them off
with vampiric teeth.
keep the name of my best friend
out of your poisoned mouths
so i can find some peace.