If I could teach myself to choke,
What beauty I'd have made.
But oh, is that the killing joke,
Which laughter does forbade.

If I could teach my bones to break,
Perhaps I'd understand.
Alas, the thing one cannot take:
The palm of his own hand.

If I could teach my flesh to tear,
I'd live amongst the men.
Yet if you burned this body bare,
You couldn't scorch the skin.

If I could teach my heart to ache,
How lovely life might be.
Until then, let me all forsake,
For nothing's dear to me.