“God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”
More from Sylvia Plath
“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
“Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.”
“What did my heart do, with its love?”
“And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send.”