I am inhabited by a cry.Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
-Sylvia Plath
325
8 years ago
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3 comments:
beautifully written..thanks for sharing
You're refering to her son's suicide I guess.
Yes, Aaron. How do so many people in one family meet such an end. I guess it must be chemical.
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