God says:

Tread lightly on streets of safety pins

beside the walls of heaven

Arch your back to the long-nailed hand

that said she was your friend

Bite your lip while your lungs collapse

As you burn do not make a sound

Given two roads,

take the one that leads to death

...

No! to suffer silently is an invisible crown that I must knock off your head while you are tied to your own kitchen chair

Good intentions perpetually encircling your chest but don't you see:

To suffer silently is false nobility

It is the magician disguised as a miracle worker,

The street vendor that sells cheap compliments,

The "hospitable" house owner,

Synthetic generosity, simply

It is illusion

And, intense enigma, even you would be amazed at how much of this world is illusion

If you choose to dissect me now, vulnerable and open, rest assured

The more lies you decipher

The more lies you will find