I know my emotion is not stable
Up and down, down and up
But I am so glad you're on the other end
You keep my life balanced, you saved me with your love

kiss your enemies.
keep them closer
to your heart.
let the demons play their part
on the inside of
your mind is the ruler
of the monsters in your head.
walk with them
hand in hand
down the pathways of your past.
let them dance with your emotions
and leave them there at last.
kiss your enemies
goodbye
and let the rain clouds of your
sorrows water the flowers
of yesterdays tomorrow.

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Soothing sounds of future memories
Pictures painted in the glory of pain
The beauty found in such ethereal places
Is especially so in the desperation
Emerging from watching the truth
Of the other side of elation
Never absorbing the joy in the mundane
Finding it exceptional
Only when threatened by the violence of truth
Truth is a reminder of fragility in all things
Manifesting itself in the clear consciousness
Of the possibility of pure anguish
The very thought of the mundane being temporary
Of that  routine being ripped apart
Shredded in terrifying facts of probability
Need vs want is a privilege
The truth is evil
The only freedom that can ever exist is truth
Faced with the amputation of what was once meaningless
Transforms the mundane to profound
There will always be loss
There will always be an opportunity to be reborn
Perception is reality
Mood is a choice
Absolute truth is a fallen angel
Yet it remains something for which to strive
Life in retrospect is not living
Biding time between bouts of honesty
Treading stagnant water
Fulfillment does not dwell in the in-between
Satisfaction is not born of boredom
The world that surrounds each life
Is only what that life has built in its down time
For there can be both joy and pain in all things
Both apathy and interest in each new view
Emotions are a powerful thing, as is logic
Yet if they never marry, there can only be lived a half-life
Peace is born in the unity of all that we are

The swirling nebulous
Breathes on its own
Filling each void
A muddled mess of memories
Swim with thoughts and emotion
A polluted lagoon of a life
The mind's eye clouded
By infinitesimal particulates
Each holding a moment of life
Each holding a piece of the puzzle of a person
Each begging to be noticed
The screaming silence
Renders a mind useless
Still, the heart will hold what the mind releases
The mind will hold what the heart releases
Should the cloud dissipate
Should there be room to think
What would happen to the pieces
Forgotten at will
Erased by need
Each tiny piece soldered into a whole
Or left to float on its own
Can it really be forgotten
Each particle is particular and matter matters

You are light itself;
you are blessed, you are blessing.
Peace always with you.