Dear Sylvia Plath (letters to the dead)

Dear Sylvia, 

How did you manage to write of the outward scene
When the silence has suffocated you
From within?
How did you coexist with a beautiful tyrant
Who's success has turned your talents into redundant?

Later on they will say [about me] -

"This is how it started,

That's how she buried herself in the hellmouth pits", -

But I need you, lost in decay,

Like no man blood-hearted;

And you slipping reality

Perfectly mine befits.

I wonder if we could become

Fine sisters,

If all of the letters I wished to receive 

Could be yours,

If we would discuss vicious brutes and elegant misters

And how none of them could ever restrain our force.