Decision

Here is my first attempt at writing a poem like Sylvia Plath would. It's an assignment for Mr. Rutter's Creative Writing Class.

Decision

I had made my decision.
It was sharp as the
Blade beneath my bed.

The feeling I get as I
Tip toe through thin, tasteless
Moments others called life was excruciating.

Respectively I went forward.
Ever hoping for a day
They could call “her accident”

The streets that I had carved along
My arms and legs, ducked and waved
As the scarves Isadora once wore.

Never more will they pass.
Never more will they seal.
Forever in the open.