Abstract

Abstract (28th May 2008, 12.13pm)

Sharp, silver blade,

Dig, like a spade does, at the surface of the earth;
Call it skin;
Call it sin;
You’ll never get to heaven; they won’t let you in.

Do I look like I care, at this point,
About something abstract
That might not exist;
A belief system
That would condemn me
For cutting my way out
Of this prison?

Do the preachers feel the way I feel
When the sharp, silver blade
Is the only object real?

Dig, like my blade does, at the surface of my skin;
Call it earth,
If you like;
It’s wearing thin.

You’ll never be forgiven; they won’t overlook
A human that chooses not to do things by the book.

Do I look like it matters, today,
Where tomorrow may lead?
An abstract concept
As I bleed.

Sharp, silver blade,

Dig, like a prayer does, at the surface of my soul,
Making a hole,
An escape route.

Your hands, warm,
Blur before my sight does;
Another abstract thought:

Blunt, coloured love.