Lady Lazarus - Sylvia Plath

One year in every ten

A sort of walking miracle, my skin

Bright as a Nazi lampshade

My face a featureless, fine

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?

The grave cave ate will be

And I a smiling woman

And like the cat I have nine times to die

To annihilate each decade

What a million filaments

The peanut-crunching crowd

Them unwrap me hand and foot--

I may be skin and bone

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman

The first time it happened I was ten

The second time I meant

To last it out and not come back at all

They had to call and call

And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls

Is an art, like everything else

I do it exceptionally well

I do it so it feels like hell

I do it so it feels real

I guess you could say I’ve a call

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell

It’s easy enough to do it and stay put

Comeback in broad day

To the same place, the same face, the same brute

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge

For the hearing of my heart--

And there is a charge, a very large charge

For a word or a touch

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes

That melts to a shriek

Do not think I underestimate your great concern

Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

Herr God, Herr Lucifer

I rise with my red hair

And I eat men like air