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Ode to Sylvia Plath

I breathe

In through my toes,

And out through my tears.

“Daddy, you *******

I’m through.” Your ****** reeks, as

I know the oven did.

Like the epilogue had ended,

You exit the stage.

The snake bit your ankle,

Sylvia,

And I ****** out your poison.

It tastes like a matchstick

And like the sweet, sweet stain of your pen.

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e
Written by
erin-kay
American
Published
May 9, 2013
Lines·Words
13·60
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