parasocial hell

I demand that your hell be in a different room than the known ones.

Composed of failed poets and singers believed that they have potential.

You must remain in the kind of flame created by unfulfilled married couples.

When I'm mad and my anger cause overflows,

You will regret the times you deified me.

And every time you mention my name, you will fear being haunted again.

Oh, God, thank you for making me a good liar,

And a good actress.

All the lover roles I played,

made me crave only for blood when we kiss.

I wish you never to see a single human in cold lands.

I buried all my previous curses with regret, but

This season was very productive, and they emerged stronger.

Where there is parasocial love, 

there is also hate.

Reviews

[Jansy]

This one’s sharp, like glass in the mouth. You can feel the exhaustion behind the performance, the bitterness of being both worshiped and unseen. The lines twist between confession and curse with theatrical precision. “Where there is parasocial love, there is also hate” hits like the quiet truth beneath the spectacle; brutal, honest, and entirely earned.
-James

[Beren]

Thank you so much again James! Your comments feels like a poem already!

[Neville]

They don't get much better than this .. Forgive me Princess, but you are rapidly turning into a genius .. 😎👍👍Neville

[Beren]

I am giggling your princess comment! Hope you’re doing well sir! Thank you.

[Lorry]

That potential stuff is dangerous. Best leave it be because if you go and do something like looking at it closely you will find it is a lot less than you thought.
I refrain from it now in every way imaginable! 😀

[Beren]

Yess! I know right! Haha! I am so glad for your time sir, hope all is well!

[Lorry]

Well its as well as can be expected, but at least its only rained for three days non stop and not snowed! 😀

[Beren]

I mean Scotland… totally worth that weather!

[Lorry]

Barbados is worth the weather! 😀

[RomaJ]

Beren, this poem hits with both fire and irony. I love how you make parasocial obsession feel like a vivid, almost tangible hell; part performance, part vengeance, part regret.

The mix of theatricality and raw emotion makes the poem feel alive, and that last line really lands, exposing the dark twin of parasocial love.
Truly haunting and clever.

[Beren]

What great words!! Thank you really much, this is quite personal but you seem through the words, as always!