Hell wasn’t the place I thought it was

Hell wasnt the place I thought it was

Not the fire out there

But the fear in here.

Not eternal damnation,

but present accusation,

wasn’t the future to be avoiding,

but present shame and loathing.

Hell wasnt the place I thought it was

for I was already alone,

Where there was already taking and destroying.

It was not the consumation

But constant concentration.

Hell wasnt the place I thought it was

The loveless place of family,

the dominion of darkness

Cold, horror, fear

locked in prison.

Hell was the joyless place of home

take, but not create,

Rules changed, abuse stayed,

eternal judgement in the present

thief prowling in the now

already inside the door.

Hell wasn’t the place I thought it was

Torn feet from eggshell walking,

Waiting for the emotional explosion

Spiritual manipulation.

Crazy delusion of the egotistical mind

trapped inside the walls.

Hell wasn’t the place I thought it was

It was closer to home that I realised.

Hell was home.

James Ballantyne, 2021

(I have written other poems recently, do like this piece if you’d like to read more, or comment below, thank you)