My very own hell

I don’t do alot of things out of fear

That one day I’ll wake up and hear

“Welcome home, to your personal hell.”

I open my eyes and see a monochrome cell.

Across the wall is a giant screen,

Playing my memories, scene after scene.

I see my thoughts on the subtitle line.

Could those horrible thoughts really be mine?

It’s completely silent and the screen blanks.

It’s finally over, I yell out my thanks.

Then the dreaded screen showed a faint light.

And those terrible speakers start to recite,

The thoughts of all the people I’ve hurt in my life.