Its time for some incredible Sylvia Plath poetry again. It's time to leave the comfort zone, and face myself. It's time to read a poem - a poem by Sylvia Plath - which takes you to a place where you wonder if you should be there, a place that inevitably places you on a ledge - or on the edge.
Just like Sylvia, I guess.
Hoo Boy. She was an amazing talent.
by Sylvia Plath
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful -- The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.