and beauty, and transformed it to typewritten words on paper.
--Sylvia Plath
My heart has fault lines.
Easily broken
I unfold before you
Frozen
In all my crimes.
But I’ve learned this—
I don’t wear masks;
I go down
My own dark streets
And light them,
And I don’t back down
From monsters
Even when frightened.
I have no words for this
So I punch holes
In my soul
Hoping
You’ll peer in.
I’m not in control…
I am a kite
Without a tail
Plummeting to earth.
Help!