Plath And I

Sometimes when I'm sad
I pretend to have tea with Sylvia.
She sits there, talking,
“I am. I am. I am.”
And listening to me.
She, with me, thinks my thoughts to be important.
But by the time the time is over,
We reach a perfect sync,
Sylvia and I.
We hold-on to each other
And the bitter warmth
Makes us whisper,
“We are. We are. We are.”

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"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am."

- Sylvia Plath