In 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 PlathI laid my face to the smooth face of the marble and howled my loss into the cold salt rain.
Sylvia Plath