Soliloquy of the Solipsist Sylvia Plath

      I?
I walk alone;
The midnight street
Spins itself from under my feet;
When my eyes shut
These dreaming houses all snuff out;
Through a whim of mine
Over gables the moon's celestial onion
Hangs high.

I
Make houses shrink
And trees diminish
By going far; my look's leash
Dangles the puppet-people
Who, unaware how they
dwindle,
Laugh, kiss, get drunk,
Nor guess that if I choose to blink

They die.

I
When in good humor,
Give grass its green
Blazon sky blue, and endow
the sun
With gold;
Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold
Absolute
power
To boycott any color and forbid any flower
To be.