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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.

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
Back
Horses
Parenthesis
Mind
Melancholy
Salve
Time
Fixed
Parentheses
Bed
Fluent
Horse
Miscellaneous
Wind
Pins
Gone
Knife
Place
Knives
Brooches

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Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.
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Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.
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The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm
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I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
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With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you which will always be.
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If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad.
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And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
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I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.
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I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.
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Only I wasn't steering anything, not even myself.
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I think the coming of spring, the stars overhead, the first snowfall and so on are gifts for a child, a young poet.
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