Sylvia Plath

Red is your lipstick
Crushing against my mouth
Death is a weapon
A hand grenade
A gun
Love is won and lost
Meaningless in a bitter dream
Resurrection is calling
But it is more favorable
To enter a fetal position
And die
The voice of God may save us
Or blind us in the light
You need someone to kiss you
Smear that lipstick on your face
Hold the warmth of your body
Fight back the disgrace
The fear will dissipate
Down the sewer grate 

To be with Sylvia
In the darkest winter night
Would satisfy all my desires
Destroy all my anxiety
Wipe away my tears
I would drink in the kitchen
Eat the last cake
Hold her in my arms
Forget all my mistakes
And die with her