what to bring to the afterlife

the crushkill conundrum:

i hate seeing you happy
and you love seeing me upset;
so the happier you get,
the more i hate it,
the happier you get,
the more
i hate it

when you smile.

no, i won't talk to you unless you talk to me,
but you won't talk to me unless i talk to you
first. it's because you deplete all my enzymes.
second. because between the two, i came (in)
third. because there's no chance:
no way in hell--no way in heaven--
will we kiss beneath the big dipper.
and there's no way in or out of either
when you're a coldhearted masochist.

the purgatory paradox:

poetry is the biggest sin of all,
so we're both damned to hell,
yet evermore suffering is paradise
to a linguistic masochist like you,
like me,
like the 'we' that's damned
eternally
to never be.

"we'll be together until hell freezes over"
you told me once.  i believe i was asleep.
my blizzard-heart could petrify the flame.
too bad, i gave it to you the day i pulled the trigger.