Sylvia Plath Poem Novels & Stories

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.” ~Sylvia Plath **CALISTA** I woke up to a silence so complete it felt wrong, like my body had forgotten how to exist or how to feel pain. My eyes stayed shut, pupils roaming in the darkness. There had been no screaming this time, no pull of rushing waves, so I lay still, telling myself that it was not over. But the waves did not come, and no voices rang out—just the eerie silence, and darkness, and me.

He sat feeling uncomfortable, he wondered what Sarah was up to. "Ryan, Incase I die, do not weep by my grave." "How...like what do you mean?" He looked at her perplexed. "Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.

All I ever did was do things my way, and that ate right at my heart like a termite boring a hole. Then the door opened again, and to my surprise, it was Ralph, coming in with Sylvia unconscious in his arms

Each time I came across Sylvia, my heart always melted but I just pretended as if she don't mean anything to me when infact she meant something to me, she is the only girl that dares to corrects all my mistake and bends me. I went to an empty dark classroom where no one was in. I just wanted to have a companion and Music helps me with that. I took my guitar I started playing and singing. Soon I was drown in the song it was as if I was now dwelling in the most high place. Sylvia's POV, I was so tired of searching for that ray. The flyers in my hand was even much ta burden than a mile stone tied on someone's neck. I started cursing and getting so pissed up. Everyone passing by me was either La

(Sylvia's POV) Raven's eyes blazed with fury as he stepped closer to me. His face was twisted with rage and pain, making him look like a stranger. "Tell me the truth, Sylvia!" His voice thundered through the hospital corridor. "What poison did you use? Stop playing innocent!" My heart pounded against my ribs. The accusation hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath away. "I didn't poison anyone!" I shouted back, my own anger finally erupting. "How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn't even here!"

The poem went this way, Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I did not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uprising rush Oh quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.