Anna who was mad, <br />I have a knife in my armpit. <br />When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. <br />Am I some sort of infection? <br />Did I make you go insane? <br />Did I make the sounds go sour? <br />Did I tell you to climb out the window? <br />Forgive. Forgive. <br />Say not I did. <br />Say not. <br />Say. <br /> <br />Speak Mary-words into our pillow. <br />Take me the gangling twelve-year-old <br />into your sunken lap. <br />Whisper like a buttercup. <br />Eat me. Eat me up like cream pudding. <br />Take me in. <br />Take me. <br />Take. <br /> <br />Give me a report on the condition of my soul. <br />Give me a complete statement of my actions. <br />Hand me a jack-in-the-pulpit and let me listen in. <br />Put me in the stirrups and bring a tour group through. <br />Number my sins on the grocery list and let me buy. <br />Did I make you go insane? <br />Did I turn up your earphone and let a siren drive through? <br />Did I open the door for the mustached psychiatrist <br />who dragged you out like a gold cart? <br />Did I make you go insane? <br />From the grave write me, Anna! <br />You are nothing but ashes but nevertheless <br />pick up the Parker Pen I gave you. <br />Write me. <br />Write.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anna-who-was-mad/
