I will abide no excuse of love or anger.
I will have no family or friend in union.
I will live alone.
I will sever both my arms
tear them from the blade sockets,
insert them in a guillotine bed,
chew them off at the shoulders, or
rend them from my body by any method
to preserve vitality.
When hands wrap around my throat
I will plunge a tube into my chest and
even if the grip on my larynx never loosens,
I will continue breathing.
I will lock out the diseased world
stay indoors with only
my pen to protect me and
throw paper airplane poems out the window.
When my last pen is robbed or runs dry
I will open my veins with my fingernails,
my teeth,
my chains;
I will paint my voice.
I have awakened from the tyranny of marriage and no one
will ever silence me again.