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Oct 2019
"I'm not sorry I ate your heart for my own.
I left, carelessly fed the Earth your bones.
To make friends I would cut Medusa's hair.
Speaking as Thor thundered in my chest,
His Cerberus kiss, on cheeks and lips bare,
As Zeus breathed life onto my neck with zest.
From the ribs he pulled my dust weak body.
He the better man who left me lonely.
To you I've arrived empty, to fill night.
I've brought my casual poetry to you,
I need to tire ears to make this heart light.
Heavy is he and I know you'll sit through
Me. I need a voice he's not choked to glee.
I need a line to write, before I fall asleep."
"Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.  
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,  
And they stuck me together with glue.  
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the *****.  
And I said I do, I do."
-Daddy, by Sylvia Plath
Written by
Briscoe  18/M/Australia
(18/M/Australia)   
68
     Fawn and mango
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