Dear Sylvia Plath, do you think wishing for everything or nothing; either can take away the loneliness?: A poem 

Dear Sylvia Plath, I see you walking in an autumnal sunrise 

wishing; and then, that you hadn’t bothered wishing, after all, 

Because you could tell that everything you wished for 

was an evaporation, nothingness. Since you already knew 

there was a completeness in expecting nothing from anyone.  

I could say, you become God in your belonging to yourself. 

I heard you plead to the world in your exotic words that 

you wanted somebody, O somebody(!) to listen to you, 

to understand you, tangibly; like a romance, sensitive and  

Platonic! I just am caricatured to believe that romancing  

eternity, is believing that one day my true love is returned 

to me, and all things I fervently cherished will be irrevocably mine! 

Never mind the patience I placed before me, the sublimity and humility;  

never mind the seeming autonomy of wickedness of evil minds  

and relentless treachery that desertified me into a loneliness. 

Did I hear you say the loneliness of your soul is an accursed 

reality? I have felt loneliness with a twinge of sadness, but 

never felt its insurmountability; I am not a dead-end of spirit to feel suicidal 

by the external dishonesty that festers a beautiful spirit, like you were. 

I didn’t feel profaned by the poison and perversity that seemed  

to deluge me. And should I finally say that I don’t seek escape  

routes, from my tribulation, to either fish or Moon!