The structure is made from flesh and bones
The drill is my brain.
I inject thought into the sky and drill for Heaven.
Bashing against the blue I dream of striking the white and it washing over me.
Covering me in happiness, drenching me in optimism.
I search for Heaven on Earth and find it in the tiny.
As often as I drill for Heaven I unwillingly drill for Hell.
Staring at the ground so hard, my thoughts dig into the dirt until I strike the red.
It bubbles, boils and sprays up out of the ground
Flames up like Roman candles.
I try to put out the red of Hell with white thoughts of Heaven,
but often the red and white mix
Creating the colour of my skin
It is me that is left in the middle.
Half Heaven, half Hell.