Poetry

I am a dead poet

I am a dead poet.

I am locked behind four walls.

I am a Tuesday morning.

I am a wounded healer.

I am bravery, the disguise.

I am sexual convenience.

I am unopened 4am texts.

I am a ‘for one night only’ act.

I am a lost guide with a map.

I am the crying child in church.

I am a table for one.

I am understanding and misunderstood.

I am a number amongst names.

I am a writer who cannot write.

I am a dead poet.

*

“I am I am I am”

  • – Inspired by Sylvia Plaths, “The Bell Jar”

 

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4 thoughts on “I am a dead poet

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