choose the heavy thing and drink
the poison that spits and shrieks;
gravid with brave, meet the monster
of your heart; the devil in the shade, the
dragging sound of a sinister spectre
rattling chains in the dark
drop like a sea down the godless well
unlit in its knowing. Fearsome sound,
each hissing prophecy and foretold nightmare
drain resolve; but a brittle life
to the gravid soul is not worth sowing.
choose the heavy thing
and drink.
it strikes and you flinch and flail.
it peels away your blood. An ending as sure
as the tip of a serpent’s tongue or tail. A whisper
of something worse than death; the error of your soul,
the nothing of your feeble good.
you choose the heavy thing
and drink.
you look it in its cursed eye as it deals the
killing blow. you choose the heavy thing and drink.
you don’t flinch anymore. the monster of your gravid
heart drops to the floor. it is nothing but a
coat draped on a chair; a trickster. a false
phantom made of terror and counterfeit air.
you choose the heavy thing and drink
your salvation is truth
and home and peace and
there