I'll be your Sylvia Plath
I'll balance on the fine line
Between completely crazy
And insanely intelligent
And write like the cat
I have 9 times to die
And this is number 3
Boy, I will bite your neck in bed
And than we’ll get fucked up on gin
And eliminate all things shallow and paper thin

Our heads will start to spin
Cuz the roller-coaster is at the top
As the steep drop
Steers clear out of sight
When I feel so alive
I know I’m not going to die
Atleast not for a while

I’ll bring home sentences
Like Paris Hilton brings home the shopping
Sonnets, sestinas, verbal mind-reflectors
One after the other, each one more mind-blowing
Their mere existence expanding the world into eternity
If eternity even exists?
Are the skys stars impressed by my internal infinity?
My will to experience being everything and everyone?
I will fail.
But is it worth spending your whole life counting just to reach infinity? (When I tried to talk to god I found that the sky was empty).
I will fail.
I am not infinitely sad
But perhaps I am going mad
In the space between explosive extroversion
And introspective introversion
Balance on that fine line
You know that to be creative
Does not mean you must self-destruct
I’d like to tell you that
We must keep on going, Sylvia Plath
Cuz you know we keep on growing
Living is an art
And you know how to do it so it feels real
Why did you tell your fiery burning wheel to stop turning
When I know you’d be the first to say
A conclusion is just a wall that stands in your way
A conclusion is just a wall that stands in your way

So I’ll do the baking
If you just stay away from the oven
And the Bell Jar may be broken
But Lady Lazarus is rising
And she don’t need no daddy
Let’s never be so dumb
As to be under a mans thumb
Love?
Love?
Love?
Writing about personal experience must be relevant to the larger things you say
Your days Hiroshima
My days Fukishima
Human beings being creative
Does not mean creating the means to self-destruct

You know that to be creative
Does not mean you must self-destruct