Zoning out at Work Vibes

Unforgivable

I never thought that I would die first.

I mean, it makes sense that one of us would go before the other,

and I never hoped it would be you.

I guess, I just never realized It would have to be me then.

I was glad to go to hell, but that doesn't mean I wasn't scared too.

At least, in Hell, I could still be me.

In heaven, they wipe away the sadness. The memory of pain.

My body may have watched you from on high, but it would not really be me.

My kindness, my empathy, it all comes from the pain that I have lived.

But I can still love you from Hell.

When the demon turns away for a moment to grab a new tool,

I can still see you, and feel sorry for the pain that you feel.

And I always thought God was unchangeable, until that day. . . 

On the day that you died too, I was so relieved.

And I could not wait to hear you singing in heaven.

And then you got to the gate and it was closed.

Years of torture at an un-aging hand, and an eternity to look forward to,

and still, I had not screamed so loud and so raw as I did at that moment.

I could form no words at first, just a wild thrashing as I struggled to break my chains.

Just a vicious, rage-filled, scream that sent a chill up satan's spine.

And then, I screamed for God's attention, using words that I did not like to say in front of you.

Saying things that would get me killed if I were not already very dead.

I think even God was surprised when he bent his colossal, blinding, form closer

to better hear what I was screaming.

And I told him how life on Earth had already been your Hell,

and what were you supposed to do?

You could not help who you loved, and who loved you.

I named his own sins and ask how any of yours could compare.

No one had ever fought like I had.

Everyone was too in awe, or too horrified, and there I was.

After years of submission, I fought.

But I did not fight for myself.

I fought for you.

I knew that you would be cleaned of sin, and all the pain that you survived.

I knew that you would stop loving me when you entered heaven,

and still, I fought.

I named every reason why you belong in heaven, 

and I choked it all out through tears and gritted teeth.

At first, all it did, was fill the silence I had created,

and then, God held up his hand, and I held my breath in ragged lungs.

I must have really been a sight. 

All of that blood, and no skin, but they leave your face alone so they can see your expressions.

God does not really speak anymore, if he ever did, but still, you understand.

He had never seen a love stronger than the pain of Hell.

It was a question. He expected more of me than just my words.

And I begged. I had never begged anyone but my mother. You know that.

But, I begged. I promised to add your sentence to mine.

Sacrificing myself so that you could be saved.

That is God's favorite thing, after all.

You never looked at me again, but I never took my eyes off of you.

The torture got worse as I took on what you owed, but I would do it again.

I would do it unflinchingly, for a thousand lifetimes, and more.

I couldn't hear it, but I loved to watch you sing.