the briny chelsea.

washing over you like soothing, acrid salt water.

April 9, 2009 at 10:59pm
Home

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

Notes

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