inside the bell jar

This may/may not be what a part of my quarter life crisis looks like:

miss placed was long faced
she was oddly shaped
and unlaced

and she knew the truth...
no one needs her

no one, but no one, will keep her.

(is everyone sick of the “Miss” poems yet?
‘Cause I can guarantee that i will write more of them)


"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Mad Girl’s Love Song –Silvia Plath

i'm getting really tired of me