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Feb 2019
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satin's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Plath is one of my favorite poets. It pains me when people I tell people this and they dismiss her as being a "confessional" poet- as if confessional poetry is second rate and therefore so is she. To all of that I say read your so called confessional poets and open your mind a teensy bit. Or not. We don't need you anyway xo
Jennifer Beetz
Written by
Jennifer Beetz  55/F/USA
(55/F/USA)   
124
       Rich Hues and David Noonan
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