READY AND WAITING

Even as a child, I knew,
I was going to hell,
so every night
I prepared,
drew the bathwater
a little bit hotter
than the night before
and let it burn my skin
just a little bit redder
a little bit more painful,
pretending I was mining coal
or building a railroad
in hell
until finally
anything under 200 degrees
felt like ice on my skin,
and spending eternity in flames
didn't seem like such a bad idea.