Bit my pretty red heart in two
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty, I tired to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
• Sylvia Plath, 'daddy'
-----
Oh, Sylvia.
YOU ARE READING
Everyday She Tries
PoetryYou fell in love with my flowers, but not my roots so, when autumn came, you didn't know what to do. ------ Quotations, lyrics and short poems I find vehement, put together. Check it out?
