• I can't remember what it felt like to feel 'normal'.

  I can't remember what it felt like to wake up and not wish I hadn't.

  I can't remember what it felt like to not want to die.

  I can't remember what my body looked like without the scars.

   

  I read her poems and they made sense to me. Especially the one titled 'Elm'. My favourite part is when she says: 'I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity'. It felt like what I wanted to say, but couldn't. I read her book and it felt true. Sylvia Plath has always been my favourite poet, and the 'Bell Jar' has always been one of my favourite books.

  I can't help but feel the weight pressing in, and I wish I could sleep easier, because sleeping is my favourite thing right now.

• I can't stand Sylvia Plath...

  
  

  No wonder you are so depressed. Try prayer (?)

  NomadMonadon August 18, 2015   Link

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