Abstraction

I am a careful artist

I do not hold to the reins of memory

Or rememory

Re-membering a line with

Lines drawn before

And making a man from nothing

I am a careful artist.

I do not name to lend a hand

A story, a feeling or a word

Or give gravity; but brevity.

Words are severe.

Hunting, casting, leaning,

Weaning, waning. Winding

Up your arm to

Throw your hardest punch

Into thin

Fucking

Air.

I am a careful artist.

I know nobody is hearing me now,

But god knows they’ll hear

Me later and there will not

Be words left once they do.

Every order has been taken.

The world has played itself

Over and over and over

And over and over and over

And over and yet

I am a careful artist.

I am a careful artist

Who takes to give.

Who bleeds to thrive

But the careful artist?

My thoughts are not mine

But they must be forgiven.

My thoughts are not mine but

I still feel the guilt that

I was the vessel that carried them.