Piercing Through Heaven And Hell

I know this guy that would stand over my grave if I ever died and yell at me for being a quitter.

And he probably wouldn’t stop yelling at me until I got up.

Honestly, he probably would do that.

And if there is a heaven,

And by some miracle I make it up there,

I feel like his voice would pierce through my eternal happiness and peace.

And echo in my hollow skull,

Until I got up,

And hopped the gate,

And parachuted back down to this rock we are all on together.

I can really see that happening some day. I wouldn’t lie to you, yet. No, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t . . .

And if there is a hell,

And I am weighed and measured after my death,

And God decides that I didn’t make the cut,

And I got sent down to that stinking pit again,

I bet through all of my suffering,

And all of my torture,

And all of my flesh burning,

My friend’s voice would find me down there;

And like a parasite,

It would crawl inside of my brain,

And start to feast on what is left of it,

Until I had no choice,

But to bite off my shackles,

And walk through the flames,

To climb up out of hell;

And with the demons, and the people who talk at movie theatres clawing at my heels,

I’d made my great escape out of hell,

And back up to this rock.

And I imagine this guy that I know would be standing over my grave,

Yelling at me,

When I got back.

“YOU WERE ALWAYS A LITTLE BITCH! WE ALWAYS KNEW THAT! BUT YOU PROMISED YOURSELF YOU WOULDN’T QUIT! YOU PROMISED ME!! FOR FUCKS SAKE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO SAVE YOUR OWN LIFE!”

Yeah, I bet when I got back, he would still be standing over my grave yelling at me, waiting for me to get back . . .

. . .

. . . If we are being honest here, and I suppose I should be honest with y’all, I don’t know a guy that would do that . . . I honestly don’t . . . But . . . I wish I did. I really wish I did know someone like that.

CH 12/3/24