lazarus_

<div class="legacy-text">dying<br />is an art, like everything else.<br />i do it exceptionally well.<br /><br />i do it so it feels like hell.<br />i do it so it feels real.<br />i guess you could say i've a call.<br /><br />it's easy enough to do it in a cell.<br />it's easy enough to do it and stay put.<br />it's the theatrical<br /><br />comeback in broad day<br />to the same place, the same face, the same brute<br />amused shout:<br /><br />'a miracle!'<br />that knocks me out.<br />there is a charge<br /><br />for the eyeing my scars, there is a charge<br />for the hearing of my heart-<br />it really goes.<br /><br />and there is a charge, a very large charge<br />for a word or a touch<br />or a bit of blood<br /><br />or a piece of my hair on my clothes.<br /><br /><br />i am your opus,<br />i am your valuable,<br />the pure gold baby<br /><br />that melts to a shriek.<br />i turn and burn.<br />do not think i underestimate your great concern.<br /><br />ash, ash-<br />you poke and stir.<br />flesh, bone, there is nothing there-<br /><br />a cake of soap,<br />a wedding ring,<br />a gold filling.<br /><br />god, lucifer<br />beware<br />beware.<br /><br />out of the ash<br />i rise with my red hair<br />and i eat men like air.<br /><br />'lady lazarus' by sylvia plath<br />1962</div>