Pocket Knives and Plath


As if it were just another day,

a child’s attempt to keep the monsters away.

Could say, this scepter of spirit, were for him.

But, truth comes laced with guile…

It is for me,

Wrapped in the words, ‘let it be’.

As the rain turns to sleet.

As the white lies repeat.

A childlike attempt to stumble a fall.

Awkward valor, lanky jabs,

to protest an inevitable stall.

At last, what of these testimonies,

languid walks,

poised crawls.

What if someone walked this very same road.

Read from Plath.

Listened with coerced ear.


I cannot live within the bell of your fear.

awkward 3
the Girl with the Weight of the World in her Hands – 

She won’t recover from her losses
She’s not chosen this path but she watches who it crosses
Maybe move to the right, maybe move to the left
So we can all see her pain, she wears like a banner on her chest
And we all say, “It’s sad” and we think it’s a shame
And she’s called to our attention but we do not call her name
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands

‘Cause we’re busy with our happiness and busy with our plans
I wonder if alone she wants it taken from her hands
But if things didn’t keep getting harder
She might miss her sacred chance to go a consecrated martyr
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands

I wonder which saint that lives inside a bead
Will grant her consolation when she counts upon her need
It makes us all angry though we feign to care
But who will be the scale to weigh the cross she has to bear
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands

-Indigo Girls


Is the glass half-full or empty, I ask her as I fill it
She said it doesn’t really matter, pretty soon you’re bound to spill it
With the half logic language of the sermon she delivers
And the way she smiles so knowingly at me, gives me the shivers
I pull the blanket higher when I’m finally safe at home
And she’ll take a hundred with her but she always sleeps alone
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands

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