Yesterday I read about Sylvia Plath.

These are the times when I get a rush of creativity,

before the fall,

as if my intense sadness,

came with a few days of limitless imagination,

the universes’ way of showing me mercy,

as if to say,

here you go my girl,

take a flight into another galaxy,

live as pollen in the breeze, drifting away from all which binds it to the flower,

jump through a thousand marigolds in the meadow like a cricket during spring,

before you feel like flying off of a cliff like Pocahontas did,

only this time towards demise.

I know the next few days will be hell,

but maybe, maybe,

you could hold on to these,

colourful thoughts you’ve conjured,

to brighten up those dark days,

to wait a while,

remembering that old phrase,

‘This too shall pass’,

And you’ll be, once again,

reunited with meaning and hope.

Remember to ask yourself,

at the hardest moments,

“What if ‘Ariel’ had seen the light of day,

Not as a will,

but as a self-driven publishment?”

Maybe Sylvia Plath would be alive the next decade,

Maybe she would’ve left her husband,

Maybe she would’ve found someone new,

Maybe a better cure would’ve healed her,

And she wouldn’t have to die,

to get rid of those,

self-destructive maybes,

those liars,

who told her she wasn’t worth anything,

Even after she wrote a legendary manuscript,

Meant for her to hold,

the universes’ way of telling her,

Dear, hold on to this burst of creativity,

just hold on a little while,

because you’re just 30,

and there’s so much more to go.

By,

Nikita Harindranath aka Azentra.