Paradise

It was the way back in,
the only way.

I thought it would be different.
Maybe work harder,
maybe dream bigger.

It never occurred to me
that getting
everything I ever wanted
would mean losing
everything I ever wanted.

I would have to go through
the angel
with the sword.

The door is open,
so long
as I don’t mind
impaling myself
in the process.

Paradise.
I wanted in.

But now I hold
this broken corpse
and wonder,
“Was it worth it?”

The angel never flinched.

I walked up
and kissed him
full on his flaming lips.

Slash and burn.
Purifying embers.

The way is open,
I can go now,
so long as I leave
what’s left of you at the door,
hanging on a hook,
waiting to be picked up
when it’s time to go
back out
into the cold.

Where you wait.
Where I’ve always belonged.

Where
you will be impaled
with those
who will be impaled
to get back in.

Except,
once we get it,
we don’t want it.

So we take up twice as fast
and bite down twice as hard.

We get kicked out
now that we know.

This paradise isn’t for us anymore.
Our home is in the east,
where you wait.

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