I haven’t lost them, I just don’t want to play With them anymore. I know it’s sad to surrender. The dinners they bought me. The debts I’ll never repay. But I don’t want to play With them anymore. It’s hard to make believe, When the toys have beliefs of their own. So I guess I’ll leave.
God damns the fertile, The futile rituals to grow a child.
"Daddy, I have had to **** you. You died before I had time—— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal" -Sylvia Plath