I stare at an edge
that promises relief
ash still warms
runs down my cheeks
and drip
drip
drips
inks round my wrist
I display my surgical
mark with pride scalpel
dances down the dotted line
pain for pain
pain for peace of mind
I choose to have these scars
besides
the drop’s not far (and I’ve been told
sweeter pastures start
where the green mile stops)
I wept over the block
where our daisies died
from their wounds
I cried
when my axe came
down
down
here strangers lie
in forgotten ground
these sunken slabs
paled, lie here
still
in my unconscious mind
your soiled quartz has petrified
the people I’m trying
to leave behind.
