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The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.

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
Think
Thinking
Turkeys
Turkey
Depressed
Neck
Necks
Felt
Thing

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One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.
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I hurl my heart to halt his pace.
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I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.
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I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.
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The blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain.
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Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.
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I need the reality of other people, work, to fulfill myself. Must never become a mere mother and housewife.
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I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.
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The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.
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I wish you’d find the exit out of my head.
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But when I took up my pen, my hand made big, jerky letters like those of a child, and the lines sloped down the page from left to right horizontally, as if they were loops of string lying on the paper, and someone had come along and blown them askew.
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