Hell is

walking up a flight of stairs,

knowing there’s a warm, cosy place to lie down

but never reaching it.

You keep walking up the stairs

sweating profusely,

thighs and calves burning with exhaustion,

panting raggedly with lungs working

overtime to keep you breathing.

A never ending flight of stairs

with the promise of a heavenly ending.

That’s what it’s like to string someone along.