Do you dance on your tip toes for him
with your hands clasped tight under your chin.
With that smile on your face
that'll make his love bloom
like logs stirred in some dying blaze.
While i'm playing solitaire,
or trying to,
through this drunken haze.

Does he cradle your head in his arms
keep the light on so the dark cannot harm.
Do you talk about food
and the kinds you'd consume
on each continent as your passing through.
While i'm playing solitaire
drinking and thinking of you.

I made a comment about jumping off a building the other day
And you looked at me and said "You shouldn't joke about suicide."
And I completely agreed, suicide is not a joke
But little did you know, I wasn't joking
And even though I smiled as I said it,
I silently begged you to see behind it
And pull me far, far away from the edge
Before I fell where no one could reach me
Because their is a huge difference between wanting to die
And wanting to **** yourself
It can make the difference between life and death
And I'm afraid I've gotten to the point
That I might just want both

Her mother pushed religious ******* down her throat
But she refused to listen
Her mother pulled her hair and took away her hope
But she had accepted long ago her mothers love had conditions
Her mother always let her get caught in the crossfire of her anger
But she just locked herself in her room to forget
Her mother constantly called her a failure
But she didn't need her mother to remind her of her regrets
Her mother was fed up with her passive aggressive behavior
But she knew she deserved better than this neglect
Her mother always yelled at her for never talking
And she let hollow silence be her reply
It wasn't until her mother said "You should **** yourself."
That she happily complied

My momma bought me some more of those pills
the ones that control my moods, keeping me sane
I only just opened them, took off the cap
didn't do anything, just swirled my finger around,
my thoughts consumed by the elegance of them,
the perfect roundness and sunshine yellow.
But then the dark thoughts came, like storm clouds,
as they always do around this time of the evening
and i heard them ask me, a hiss in my ear
now what on earth, could a girl like you do
with all of those
pretty
little
**pills

Oceans of the free
spread open their hearts for me
They cry – they scream
“The earth sees all – but you took her eyes!”
They depend on the tall plants to climb -
to breathe
Packs of wolves – like freedom
coming at you with force like rain clouds
Quietly, we all tell
Swim with the free and begin to breathe like me

Eleven lives implore me,
"Release your electrons!"
I don't, Irvine,
but they are wont to thrive
reflecting visions of stanzas, arcane

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.

If only they knew what I could do.
What I was worth.
Would they come running in droves, or would they cower in fear, as if unworthy?
I'm not after the party flake, nor the wholesale take.
I'm after the ones who don't exist.