Wishes May Come True...

Conversations With Sylvia Plath

Why is it like I have always known you.

We are not lovers, we never will be,

but somehow you are so much like me.

Why?

We both have "Daddy issues"

Mentally ill poets,

ink runs deep in the veins we are learning

to not cut open.

Maybe we both need to forget a little bit.

Maybe we need

Carbon monoxide poisoning,

Does it feel nice being released into a void I've only dreamed of.

You write of beatings

The feelings of caged animals that you know

all too well.

Just like me.

Sylvia, If I could meet you

we could speak of our mistakes over

zero calorie coffee

as we both prefer the familiar to the sweet.

Sylvia, no one believed you until you were in the clouds

in the dirt

in the stars

Maybe that's the only way

they will ever believe me.