Maxioms by Sylvia Plath
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm
The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm
For me, poetry is an evasion of the real job of writing prose.
For me, poetry is an evasion of the real job of writing prose.
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll read more
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.
What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
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What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.