My Vacation to Hell

My Vacation to Hell

I packed a case, left it by the door,

Half closed, like I might change my mind,

I told myself it would not be long,

Just somewhere I had to pass through.

The road felt stretched and slightly wrong,

Stops came later than they should,

People sat with distant eyes,

As if they had been there before.

When I arrived, it was not flames,

No burning sky, no rising heat,

Just quiet streets and faded paint,

And doors that never fully shut.

I found a room with a tilted chair,

One leg shorter than the rest,

A light above that would not rest,

Just humming softly all the time.

Time did not move the way it should,

Clocks ticked on but nothing changed,

I watched the hours circle round,

Without a clear way out of them.

Strange how it felt like somewhere known,

Like waiting rooms I have sat in,

After news you cannot fix,

When words do not quite reach the air.

I stayed longer than I had planned,

Longer than I will explain,

Until one day the door stood wide,

And something lifted in the air.

I picked my case and walked away,

Did not rush and did not look back,

Just thought, with a quiet kind of strength,

I will not return there again.

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