Dear Michael

This is my second attempt at writing a poem like Sylvia Plath. If you don't know who she is? Or you didn't read my last post entitled "Decision" OR! if you didn't google who she was until today. I'll tell you. But if you did.. you can just skip the next paragraph and read me second poem.
Sylvia Plath = DARKEST POET EVER FOR A GIRL. She was a bit suicidal and had a very unique taste in word choice and the way the liked portraying things. She like dark things, and death. One of my favorite poems by her is entitled "Lady Lazarus" One of my favorite lines is. "Dying, is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well". Kind of weird. But I like weird. So that's what the first poem "Decision" was about. We kinda had to portray this suicidal side of her.


This next poem is based off of another one of her poems entitled "Daddy" . We have to tell a story just as she did against he father. Also include imagery and other... little subtle things. So here it is.

Dear Michael

 Six years Michael. Six years have I spent
Day after day, wasting my time with you.
Your gifts always came routinely.
Always in the same purple or green hue.
Your consistency was your weakest strength.

Dear Michael, the bruises fell off eventually.

Six years, you were the biggest step
I have ever taken backwards.
You were the only mistake
I never took the time the fix.

I will never stop looking behind my shoulder,
Shoes laced ready to run.

Dear Michael, What color are my eyes?

Your words were sweet and thoughtful.
I felt wrapped inside of a verbal cocoon
Filled with thorns that were
Always pricking and festering
In all the right places.

Dear Michael, Thank you for every scar.

Six years Michael, Six years is enough time
To mull things over, run them down until
They have no strength or will to stand
And defend  themselves.

I died long before the second year.
It took you five to figure it out.

Dear Michael, This is the end.