Email Poem

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Poem
1.

A red helium balloon
                                   I float above myself,
Watch the ritual unfold:

                                   Gather the sharps
                                   Lay them out
                                   Roll up the sleeves
                                   Enfold the world in silence.

Then, with infinite concentration,
The Not-Me begins:

                                    Draw the lines
                                    Open the flesh
                                    Let out the hot red
                                    Pain and Poison;
                                    Inscribe another testament
                                    To survival.

Then the balloon drifts down
Sleeves roll down
The Not-Me steps into the balloon
                                    And floats away,
And I become myself again,
Purged and Whole

Until the next time.

                                                               2.

A wraith,
I live on air
Insubstantial as the Winter's mists.

I am colorless
Blank as perfect ice, as cloudless sky
Yet I command all appetites,
Control my ghostly shape
Against all outside assault.

My Will is wind,
Invisible and Absolute.

A reed,
I bend but never break.

I may be fading, fading...

But the steel rod within the mist
Shines true and will not yield.

                                                               3.

Peel back the flesh
The flowing flesh,
And see the Void within.

I am large but I am empty,
Hollow as a gourd, a husk.
Tear me and the taut surface
Will collapse upon itself.

I hunger, ever hunger
For the things that fill others up 
To keep them satisfied.

                                                     And so I eat.

                                                     I eat Love, Acceptance, Self-Confidence.
                                                     I eat Hate, Loneliness, Rejection.

Ultimately,
I consume myself.

                                                     After all, 
                                                     Who else could stomach
                                                     The taste of me?
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