I’m worried about what happened today;
These people, these catastrophes that slipped
Down the slope toward me that I couldn’t
(Or wouldn’t!) avoid. I’m worried and maybe

I won’t sleep tonight. Maybe I’ll dream
Of those faces, all twisted and wrenched,
Like dried fruit, fanged and hungry for
My soul. Oh yes I’m worried and anguished

And suddenly I know how Satan was conceived;
Where his scythe of retribution, his dagger of
Malice, wrathful horns on my own face,
Poking backwards into my curdling skull, came

Into the universe; a fiction both horrifying and real.
Hell exists. I built it. And I’m worried I’m going there.

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