because they give me a sense of accomplishment...

the separable soul

if i knew how to separate my soul
i'd draw it out like poison from a wound
give up the ghost and catch it in a bowl
to tranquil rest, commit it on the moon
and in that silver body, in a grail
far from the earth and its forsaken cries
my life would fester there and never fail
immune to those who kill and that which dies
if, from the body's moribund decrees
i could conceal the dying of my death
and so exchange the language of disease
to gain a tranquil, trance-entangled breath
i'd shed the contradiction of your charms
and shuffle off your mortal coiling arms.