Hell, it still   
seems these days,

is other people.

So we   b u r n   our grief to Hell anyways.

Pause is good.

My walking radio says it too:
 

“Una pausa y volvemos.”

My faith is restored, 

in something else.

In someone else.

In you and in me. 

In us.

Hell, the only real one,
is no other people.