Suicide Is, After All, The Opposite Of

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.

I Leave You, Home, When I'm Ripped From The Doorstep By Commerce Or Fate. Then I Submit To The Awful Subway Of The World.

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

I Am Out Of Practice At Living. You Are As Brave As A Motorcycle.

Let There Be A Heaven So That Man May Outlive His Grasses.