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I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.

Sylvia Plath

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Sylvia Plath
Age: 30 †
Born: 1932
Born: October 27
Died: 1963
Died: February 11
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Victoria Lucas
Sylvia Plath Hughes
Taken
Feelings
Pill
Pills
Thin
Kill
Feeling

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I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free—— The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
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I suppose if I gave myself the chance I could be an alcoholic.
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I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.
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Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.
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I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.
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I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.
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I do not fear it: I have been there.
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I felt dull and flat and full of shattered visions.
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So much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough.
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I used to pray to recover you.
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Talking about my fears to others feeds it.
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I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free.
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The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.
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The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.
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because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
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Pretty soon, the only doubt in my mind was the precise time and method of committing suicide. The only alternative I could see was an eternity of hell for the rest of my life in a mental hospital, and I was going to use my last ounce of free choice and choose a quick clean ending.
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Let me sit in a flowerpot, The spiders won't notice. My heart is a stopped geranium.
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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead I lift my eyes and all is born again.
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Sunday-the doctor's paradise! Doctors at country clubs, doctors at the seaside, doctors with mistresses, doctors with wives, doctors in church, doctors in yachts, doctors everywhere resolutely being people, not doctors.
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The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment.
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