True Story.
I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.
Sylvia Plath (via letusflyawayandtraveltheworld)
The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via truebeauty-iswithin)
dearestfuckingdiary:

-Sylvia Plath

dearestfuckingdiary:

-Sylvia Plath

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.
Sylvia Plath (via rarararambles)

viciousminuteshour:

‘Tulips,’ a poem by Sylvia Plath, read by RM. 

viciousminuteshour:

‘Mad Girl’s Love Song,’ a poem by Sylvia Plath, read by RM. 

Wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
Sylvia Plath The Bell Jar (via butterfliesforabrain)