its the kind of hell
that brings you to your knees
in a prayer of fear and forgiveness
but get nothing in return besides
a hole the size of texas
with aches rusting your bones
and flooding your eyes,
but you are still alive.
a shriveled smile of fake happiness,
temporarily bliss,
tastes of heaven through poison-infested lips,
but you are alive.
your heart still beats, opening and closing valves
locking doors and hallways of vessels
lacing through your silk-skin veins.
the words you don't want to hear
in bits of syllables that ends with
a bit of an "i'm sorry" but more of a
"no i'm not."
the highest part of the lowest point
where your heart sinks
through your body
below the ground you walk on
in hopes of protecting itself;
but really,
the grave has been dug
and your heart
is already in hell