Try as you will
to cover it-
to store,
to toss,
the energy
that's pent up.
Try as you will,
try as you might
The result
is the same.
You attempt to bite,
attempt to scream,
then attempt to punch.
But you have no mouth
to scream,
no hands
to fight.
Your soul
drinks poison,
and it is too much.
Too much
to handle.
It strains
under pressure,
as they abuse you
again-
and again.
They call you:
fraud,
liar,
thief,
criminal,
lazy,
misbegotten.
For they are cruel
and they know
you'll say nothing,
do nothing,
because your love
protects you.
And them.
But how could they
have known
the hellfire
had burned that love
away?
How could they
have known
this one act
would spark
defiance?
How could they
have known
what was coming?
Then,
as the cracks
finally give-
Hellfire
is unleashed.
It tears
through the layer of skin
that was supposed
to be a mouth.
It burns you-
and everyone else
around.
Like hellfire,
it doesn't stop.
It pours out
like light
that shines
too bright.
It spills
from your eyes,
staining your face
with red streaks
all around.
Like hellfire,
you've become
the wrathful sun:
a sun too close,
a sun too bright,
a sun that scars
all it touches.
There is no end
as you explode
in hellfire.
And you don't
want it to end.
"You had no mouth,
and you needed to scream."
But they took that away,
Like everything else:
The grass.
The trees.
The bees,
all gone.
Swallowed whole
by hellfire.
The stores.
The people.
Swallowed
by hellfire.
Your friends-
swallowed
by hellfire.
Yourself-
swallowed
by your hellfire.