one particular poet speaks my words

she resonates in my consciousness

I carry her thoughts as one with mine

Sylvia Plath’s Colossus is me, not her father as one might think

fragmented like puzzle parts, my mind has also tumbled down

I hear this constant alarm in my head “I shall never get you put together entirely, pieced, glued, and properly jointed”

I pray for healing, a lifting of my emotions

but like a soft whisper it eludes me