Sylvia Plath's "Stillborn"

When I read Sylvia Plath’s poem "Stillborn" , I was in awe. She was able to produce heartachingly beautiful verses describing the despair she feels at learning that her poetry is not alive, much like a stillborn child. The imagery utilized in this poem is able to really capture the readers attention and make them visualize what Plath is trying to portray. This comparison is absolutely genius because poems come from the most vulnerable and private space within us, it’s creation is something beautiful and intimate much like that of a baby. As writers, we carry our poetry inside us, taking care of it, nurturing it, watching it grow and develop to become something that no longer needs us to survive. Naturally, your heart is shattered once you realize that this thing that was a part of you has everything it’s supposed to have except a soul and it makes you wonder at what point did it die and how could you not notice when it slipped through your fingers?