Oh, Plath, What a Path.

For the wonderful Sylvia Plath.

I walk through a path,

As I dream of miss Sylvia Plath.

A woman whose story ended in tragedy,

Will that become my reality?

Oh, my dearest Plath,

We have walked along the same path,

Into the same hospital to find ourselves,

Oh, Plath,

Isn’t it a ridiculous path?

A mental path can be even more confusing to follow than a physical one set in front of you.

The path is uneven,

Just like my level of sanity.

Sylvia, my darling,

I sure am spiraling,

My mind is absolute absurdity, 

I’d say.

And as I live in this depression,

Your words leave motivation.

When I am surrounded in fear,

I hold your morals close to my heart,

My dear,

And I solemnly walk this path,

Thinking deeply,

You mean so much to me,

Miss Sylvia Plath.