vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Father off than Australia.
Snug as a bug at home
Right, like a well done sum.
A clean slate. With your own face on."
...
Plath took her own life on the morning of February 11, 1963. Leaving out bread and milk, she completely sealed the rooms between herself and her sleeping children with "wet towels and cloths." Plath then placed her head in the oven while the gas was turned on.
why sylvia
why didnt you hold on
and wait for us
(i know this entry is morbid, but she means the world to me)
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