OH, PLATH

Alright, you've woven yourself
Into my psyche as embroidery stitches
Form an invisible pattern..
I bow to your erudition
Your diaries at nineteen say it all
Cleverness articulated: your thought-stream
A minefield of knowledge
You knew too darn much, Sylvia.

By the time you reached thirty
A pinnacle to be ascended no more
Alive with lies, treachery
Cogitating within your numerous minds
At war with the untouchable you
Acute awareness
Plunging into incurable misery
No god for comfort

Only agony of mind
Splintering into disarray
Too much unforgiven love.
Ego crying for adoration
Unable to lose your ego
Created of steel rods
Weakening to fragile cobwebs
You, the black spider

Spinning tall stories to yourself
Playing the Virginia exit
Fame caught you
At the very moment
You gassed your beautiful head

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