I Am Torn In Two But I

Death, I Need My Little Addiction To You. I Need That Tiny Voice Who, Even As I Rise From The Sea, All Woman, All There, Says Kill Me, Kill Me.

Once I Was A Couple. I Was My Own King And Queen With Cheese And Bread And Rosé On The Rocks Of Rockport.

Suicide Is, After All, The Opposite Of The Poem.

Despite My Asbestos Gloves, The Cough Is Filling Me With Black, And A Red Powder Seeps Through My Veins.

...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own Skin And Dug Into Her Soul And Found It Full.