Email news@statisticool.com to sign up to receive news and updates

Found Poetry 273

5/1/20

will I find a rain cloud to wash over me
and dilute my scars?
I shout "Where are you!" until my throat split
and my spit changed to blood
my sea bones cry for mist
while my skin is in a desert

This poem was created from Sylvia Plath's collected works. Click here to get a book of Plath's poems.

Please anonymously VOTE on the content you have just read:

Like:
Dislike:

Please show me a randomly selected poem






If you enjoyed any of my content, please consider supporting it in a variety of ways: