My Heart Is On A Budget. It

[i] Have Fantasies Of Killing Myself And Thus Being The Powerful One Not The Powerless One.

The Place I Live In Is A Kind Of Maze And I Keep Seeking The Exit Or The Home.

The Soul Was Not Cured, It Was As Full As A Clothes Closet Of Dresses That Did Not Fit.

My Death From The Wrists, Two Name Tags, Blood Worn Like A Corsage To Bloom One On The Left And One On The Right.

I Tied Down Time With A Rope But It Came Back. Then I Put My Head In A Death Bowl And My Eyes Shut Up Like Clams. They Didn't Come Back.