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  May 2020 Bea Burnett
Sylvia Plath
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells ----
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.
Bea Burnett May 2020
My finger tips pour into the indents of your ribcage as I hold you tight ear to chest,
Your heartbeat pounding against my eardrum like the sea spilling from a conch.
Lacing fingers plucking at your skin like a harp.
We share the same air in this tight pocket of intimacy.
Your lungs expand as mine contract, a silent exchange.
You fill my chest with thorns it hurts to breathe, choking on the heart making its way into my throat.

My bones ache with sweetness, decayed by the sugar you force down my oesophagus.
You're such sweet poison.
Bea Burnett May 2020
I am an empty vessel
Swaying in the water,
I am a still pool
Under summer heat,
I am a willow
That feels no breeze,
I am a sun
That never rises.
A meal never eaten, a song never sung, a rug never beaten, a bell never rung.
A railing never held, a stair never troden, a river not sailed, a sponge never sodden.
Not reaching full potential or amounting to something
Bea Burnett May 2020
I can't shake the feeling,
The feeling of submission in my own body.
A creature has slipped through the cracks when at my weakest,
It's burrowed under my skin
Latched to my core.
You can find it:
Buried in my flesh, eating at me.
I feel it.
Swimming through my bloodstream, pumping poison.
I hear it.
Crawling in my thoughts.
Parasite.
Drinking my joy, spitting melancholy
my vision is dark, Shrouded in misery.
have you ever felt unsettled,
alone in the dark, but not quite.
Personifying depression as a parasitical creature.
Bea Burnett May 2020
Her body lights up,
every nerve and fibre of being shiver.
A caffeinated corpse.
Highs and lows intertwine like lovers lips,
They marry a blue flame, scorching under skin.
Unfulfilling desires creep under her temples.
Give in-
it serenades softly as she sinks into her seat.
Heels burrow into dirt in attempts to ground the soaring impulses.
She is possessed by this heat.

My flame flickers,
Put your hand in your knickers.
My inferno insists,
Slice your wrist.
My blaze bellows,
Substances mellow!

When the wick wears thin, down cools her skin.
Like the sea crashing into cove, she sinks into deep blue,
An icy numb hollows her chest,
Laced with convoluted breath.
Freighted by the weight of a heavy heart, she sighs as tears linger in her eye.

The cold is calling,
I feel myself falling.
I wrote this about what I experience during a manic episode and the adrenaline rush and impulses.

— The End —