All of this makes me want to crawl back into that dank and musty hole that makes me blind to myself that leaves me naked, liberated daring and terrible at once
this probably wasn't what you were going for, but this totally reminds me of the scene in Bell Jar when Esther crawls into the cubby hole in her basement...again, doubt you were going for that, especially emotion wise, but that's what i thought of :D
Actually, when I reread what I had written, that was the first thing that came to my mind as well -- weird! Except that the poem isn't about suicide. So...damn you, Sylvia Plath, for effing with my metephor ^_^
yeah i figured your poem wasn't about suicide, or i would have come over to your house asap ;) of course, that probably wouldn't have done very much good because i don't know where you live exactly, so a lot of help i would have been!
Comments 6
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment