I am trapped inside a bell jar,
a specimen displayed for
the entertainment
of vicious tongues.
Cruelty sees a butterfly trying
to take wings through glass…
I see pupils gorging on terror.
Oh candle, I wish a match
had never found your wick.
I prefer night where
dreams wear a gray mask
to soften revelation,
not nightmares so brazen
they welcome recognition.
©Susie Clevenger 2015
I seem to be in a Sylvia Plath mood.
Comments
Like a butter fly in a jar, "boarded the train there’s no getting off."
BTW, Sylvia's Bday would have been tomorrow. She was born (27th) a year before I was (30th) but 'had' an unfortunate early death.
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