for Sylvia Plath
by Andrew J. Stone
“The eyes and the faces all turned themselves toward me, and guiding myself by them, as if by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.”
-From the Bell Jar
I. Farewell Lover, Farewell Son
You said the white walls
saved you from his piercing hands
but you were wrong, my
dearest, blood flushed down your
thin thighs as I watched us die
II. Cannibal Lies
She wanted to leave
that’s why she killed your son,
why she asked the man
in white to let her die on
the cold operating table
III. Confessions to a Psychologist
I stood there in white
hovering over the limp
flesh below my claws
she was my wife, my dearest,
And how does that make you feel?
-From the Bell Jar
I. Farewell Lover, Farewell Son
You said the white walls
saved you from his piercing hands
but you were wrong, my
dearest, blood flushed down your
thin thighs as I watched us die
II. Cannibal Lies
She wanted to leave
that’s why she killed your son,
why she asked the man
in white to let her die on
the cold operating table
III. Confessions to a Psychologist
I stood there in white
hovering over the limp
flesh below my claws
she was my wife, my dearest,
And how does that make you feel?