Yep That's My Mom!! Hell Yeah Mom I'm So Proud Of You!!!

Me and who:)))

Sylvia Plath, aged 29, after discovering her husband's affair, in a letter to Ruth Tiffany Barnhouse Beuscher, her former psychiatrist (dated Friday, 20 July 1962)

Normalize gaslighting yourself into thinking everything is okay

Sometimes it feels like a lie to call myself a poet --

The world is a gorgeous, ethereal place --

All I've ever done is, do my best to use what little words I have to tell you what my eyes have happened to see, and, what my heart has happened to feel.

I'm just another of life's many plagiarists --

Stealing experiences for myself and pretending they're words born from my soul --

So what's the term, then, when the universe's machinations bring me across someone like you, and my heart is filled with so many words that I could write a thousand novels?

A poet?

A thief?

Or simply a woman with a mind, taken, filled to the brim by chance, with desire, need, and affection?

"Could you even describe the warmth of a glowing moon?" V. Rue, 2025.