Call me Judas

Will you still love me when I betray you?
My betrayals will be small.
No knife in the back and “Et tu, Brute?”
No thirty pieces of silver and Romans leading you away

Instead, you will ask me how I’m doing and I’ll say I’m fine
While inside a maelstrom rages, consuming fishing trawlers and cruise ships, drowning innocents in the depths of a blackened ocean.

Instead you will turn to me and ask what’s on your mind and I’ll say nothing.
While angry goblins with yellowed broken nails claw at my brain and impregnate it with parasitic ideas

My betrayals will add up.
Slaves built the pyramids by stacking rocks.
One
By
One
Eventually, my betrayals will form a ziggurat casting a shadow over the fields of Mesopotamia.
On a mild spring day, the farmers will feel a chill and know that it comes from the pyramid above.

I will drink the hemlock drop by drop, my betrayals filling my hungry mouth.

When you ask do you still want to be with me,
I will open my mouth to reply yes, I love you, you are my sun and moon, when I think about all that is good in the world, only your face fills my mind, but instead,
I will spit poison in your face and your eyes will swell,
your teeth will rot and your ears will fracture and distort.
I will watch as you shrink, your face becoming a reflection of mine,
Your gremlin hand lifting a revolver as you put it to my head and pull.