Meathead Monologue

hell, a warning

in the mouth of another,
the tongue lies black and bruised,
pushed downwards with the crooked fingers
of god himself.
do not speak, do not speak.
tied up by chains with
crosses on each end.
nuns line the corridors
priests surround the chapel.
do not speak, do not speak.
each cut and mark leaks
a substance thicker than blood.
the in ground pools of summer
are no longer filled with water,
but black ooze from the broken faucet.
do not speak, do not speak.
satan arises from the ashes of his angels;
the angels that have double sided wishes.
his hands caress their bodies
corruption spews into earths core.
the christians whimper at his side,
too afraid to stand up for themselves anymore.
do not speak, do not speak.
the beginning of the end has arrived
and no later than tonight will they
feast on your fleshy suffering.
god himself is not a match for a false army.
but a false god is nothing to be afraid of,
as long as you are wiser.
god himself does not exist
in a realm together with satan.
in the end there were two.
two brothers who chose
not to speak of their ways.
two brothers who thought it best if
one received earth and the other received
unearth.
do not speak, do not speak.
mother is calling,
mother wants you home now.
black and bruised tongues pressed
against the roof of the lover's mouth.
teeth crumble to dust.
arms limping and falling off.
this is what hell looks like,
she says to you as you lie in your bed.
you're already in tears but she continues.
do not speak, please, do not speak.
do not sin, she says, do not sin.
my child hell is real.
hell is real.
mother wants you home now.

r.k.