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She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
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
Exist
Glossed
Sure
Stared
Moment
Windows
Moments
Shop
Make
Continued
Shops
Reflection
Window
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How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.
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I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.
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I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who ski better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.
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I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.
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Only I wasn't steering anything, not even myself.
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I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.
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Then I decided I would spend the summer writing a novel. That would fix a lot of people.
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You smile. No, it is not fatal.
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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 am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.
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If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love.
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I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.
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But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.
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I felt the first man I slept with must be intelligent, so I could respect him.
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Your room is not your prison. You are.
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Secretly, in studies and attics and schoolrooms all over America, people must be writing.
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Perhaps you considered yourself an oracle, Mouthpiece of the dead, or of some god or other. Thirty years now I have labored To dredge the silt from your throat. I am none the wiser.
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The claw of the magnolia, drunk on its own scents, asks nothing of life.
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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.
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we walk the plank with strangers.
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