The Last Stop in Hell.

Where to start

in the park

where shivering

it all came

crashing down

a night under the stars

at the end of a rope

not screaming

or crying

or shaking a fist

just looking up

at the night

and asking it

why

and knowing you

won't get an answer

and that's the worst part

not knowing if the answer

will be on the other side

of this final curtain

but wait

here is where

the phone rings

"hello you

what you doin'?"

and you look at yourself

and start to cry

One Last Time

you cry when they say

"fuck crying

 let's get you flying"

and then

you start to laugh

at it

all of it

the money

the pain

the girls

the family

the drugs

the rape

the murder

the weakness

the soft centre

the I need a hug please

the Help Me Please, Somebody

you laugh at it all

the games

the shame

the fictional weight

of this fictional world

which is all it is

a fictional pain you've invented

as a lazy writer

who attracts craziness

in order to fuel creativity

when indeed

all it ever did was block

the real you

from shining through.

That's all it ever does.

So you leave it

you trust your future

you think of all the

love

lust

sadness

pain

mummy

Pops

this 

that and totally

the other

that's you've tortured yourself

with in Hell

how she

and he

and they

and you

and where

was God

gone

wasn't he

oh how

alone I must be

oh how 

well,

you know

you finally fuck it all off

three days after

you had given up

you finally fuck it all off

and sit on a cliff

by the water

surrounded by tombstones

you finally bury the past

and it's hard

you never thought it would be

anything but

oh yes, it's hard, gonna get harder

this next bit

but without the weight

you know

that you can make it

out

of

Hell.