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.