-(read the text in the parentheses if you care hehe)

the gates are opening
and—i don’t mean to sound crass
but the tainted and staggering woman
and the saturated spineless specimen
are ****** and plastered with poison
their corpses are decorated in holly leaves
they won’t be eligible to enter
i hate to be the pointer
the dog in the marsh
but their faces are melting
like molten lava
they will bring this disease through
the golden gates agape
i promise i am not the
burner-at-the-steak-er
i won’t aim the musket
with silver bullets
at them
and their porcelain skin
their lies are painted on them
my sore eyes make assumptions
i am shaking my throbbing finger
at your dismayed face
claiming the woman with the
squid-like back
shouldn’t enter the golden gates
but i am here
the hypocrite of the century
taking accountability
but only in privacy
i should be tossed out of the
weightless sky
not banging the gates loudly
declaring that i have a ticket
when the man in the front
says i am denied access
shrieking
demanding
appalled
who am i to say you won’t
be entering the king’s castle?
who am i to judge a soul
just as damaged as mine?
these gates were destined to
keep out stragglers
strangers
thieves
but we are catfighting
because we both think
our ways are more superior
this is such a waste of energy
how dare us both avouch
that our paths to our houses
are the correct ways to travel
ah—yet he took the road less traveled by
and surely got through
to the other side
i might know for sure
that i have the right code
to the front door
but i shouldn’t assert my dominance
on such a similar being as me
leave it up to the guard
(the one with slicked back hair
and a watercolor smile
the one with medallion teeth
and jewelry sculpted from
lemon grass, brass and gold)
at the opening of the golden gates
to call upon us disoriented people
(or illusions as i call us)
and punish and kiss and love and miss
those who
are plunging to their eternal death
the guard will decide
and i don’t think i will make it out
fully alive
or at least without a single rash
or cause of decay
or a single slap on the back for
not trying hard enough
(not a pat on the back as i would
hope for at minimal
for
getting to breathe
the same air as saints and
“paying their way” passengers)
but anyway
the women and i will give
each other fair grins
and maybe even shake twisted hands
mending the wounds we caused
by (maybe) being ignorant?
my wings will start to be restored
but i know i will probably
tumble to my eternal demise
just like the same people
who tried to dictate
other’s lives
or tried to play the guard
in a playwright
dangling the keys
but not taking the time to
review the sign up sheets
hypocrites!
(i included)