Then I thought, "No, I broke it myself. I broke it on purpose to pay myself back for being such a heel.
Sylvia PlathTags: self
I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on the top of the beer can.
Sylvia PlathTags: melancholy sadness
Your shelled bed I remember.
Father, this thick air is murderous.
I would breathe water.
The words in his book wormed off the pages.
Everything glittered like blank paper.
The storerooms are full of hearts.
This is the city of spare parts.
You inherit white heather, a bee's wing,
Two suicides, the family wolves,
Hours of blankness.
Five balls! Five bright brass balls!
To juggle with, my love, when the sky falls.
I remember a blue eye,
A briefcase of tangerines.
They mistake their star, these papery godfolk.
Sylvia PlathYou oughtn't to see this," Will muttered in my ear. "You'll never want to have a baby if you do. They oughtn't to let women watch. It'll be the end of the human race.
Sylvia Plath« first previous
Page 57 of 68.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.