The Sylvia Plath Forum

Poems inspired by Sylvia Plath


Scrub me

Feel the bareness of my soul as
You take my hand
With my eyes still in their sockets.

The red light is fading, but
The darkness envelops us like statues
Whilst the happiness finds a new home
Amongst the people;

How they shout and scream,
And deafen us with their silence.

The germs of our words will no longer find
The path to the dungeon
The mirror a hypocrite: a Christian with no
Way of finding god

I fail to keep you secure within this Belsen, this Auschwitz
Why do I hold the key when the door is out of reach?

The glittering morgue
I feel your presence but you are not here
You never existed, only
In my imagination

How they cry and mourn,
Their tears temporary and ever-changing like the sky
The scales freeze before they tip

How will I feel?

Claire McManus
Thursday, February 10, 2000


The Sylvia Plath Forum is administered by Elaine Connell, author of Sylvia Plath: Killing The Angel In The House.

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