It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world.
Sylvia PlathIn a rabbit-fear I may hurl myself under the wheels of the car because the lights terrify me, and under the dark blind death of wheels I will be safe. I am very tired, very banal, very confused. I do not know who I am tonight. I wanted to walk until I dropped and not complete the inevitable circle of coming home.
Sylvia PlathAnd I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
Sylvia Plath