Hell is lit by flueorescent lights.
It is a dusty room.
The ancient ventilation does nothing but move the dust around.
In that place it would be easier
If they used literal nails
through the feet
to root to you that hated ground.
Misery loves company.
And so there will be none of that for you.
Hell is a place.
Where you get to watch those others
live their dreams.
will be none of that for you.
It is not all of your answers that are stupid.
It is not all of your words that are stupid.
It is not all of your clothes that are stupid.
Only where we dangle
a distant hope that you might get it all right.
Only then can your suffering reach the fevered pitch.
That we long for in this place.
From a sufficient vantage point.
One could have watched your decent.
Once you walked these halls with all the rest of them.
Once you felt the sunlight on your skin.
That is not you anymore.
That boy you once were died in the fall.
But you walked among them once.
Do you remember how it was for you?
Do you remember how your surroundings began to blur with the speed of it all?
You cried out for freedom
and in response we stifled your freedom.
You cried out for choice.
That is why we took them away.
And you are mostly broken here in this place.
I tell myself I am your jailor-savior.
But in truth I know
I am just the scenery to you in this place,
just some dust that the ventilation system
hardly moves around.