Sylvia Plath and other poets

Poetry. Literature. My favorite. Books. You are beautiful and you matter. 

[plathbelljar]

[plathbelljar]

Kit, particularly, grieved the way some people drink, which is to say: rarely but always alone and to excess. So she could not keep Mick’s gaze at that very moment because she did not want to cry.

- Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

Our parents live inside us, whether they stick around or not, Hud thought. They express themselves through us in the way we hold a pen or shrug our shoulders, in the way we raise our eyebrow. Our heritage lingers in our blood. The idea of it scared the shit out of him.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

Someone should tell them all, Nina thought, paradise doesn’t exist.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

She allowed herself to grieve every tiny thing—every hair roller, every housedress, every smile, every promise. She wanted to empty herself of heartbreak, a task both possible and impossible.

Malibu Rising, Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

She was going to have to accept that she had always, her entire life, desired softness. Curves and smooth skin and long hair and soft lips. She had always ached to be touched with gentle hands.

- Malibu Rising, Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

And because June had not shrugged off his arm, Mick felt confident enough to kiss her neck. And because she had not shrugged off the small request, she did not know how to shrug off the larger one. And on and on it went. Small boundaries broken, snapped like tiny twigs, so many that June barely noticed he was coming for the whole tree.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

But in the morning, her anger had lost its edges. It had morphed into sorrow. She was now overtaken by the dull ache of grief, expansive and tender like a whole-body bruise. She had lost the life she had believed she’d been granted. She was in mourning.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

June poured herself a glass of orange juice and then popped the top of the vodka she kept in the cabinet and tossed that in, too. She smoothed her hair, tried to summon the dregs of her dignity.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

He was getting so sick of all the people around him all the time. And yet, he didn’t want to find out what his soul had to say when he was by himself.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

Maybe our parents’ lives are imprinted within us, maybe the only fate there is is the temptation of reliving their mistakes. Maybe, try as we might, we will never be able to outrun the blood that runs through our veins.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

And she thought, for a moment, that maybe she could let herself be angry at her mother, too. Angry at her mother for the burnt dinners and lit cigarettes, for the Sea Breezes and Cape Codders. Angry at her mother for getting in that bathtub in the first place.

Malibu Rising, Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

Beautiful but maybe a bit awkward. Awkward but maybe beautiful.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

The good thing about getting dumped by a dickhead is that you don’t have to deal with the dickhead anymore. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

There should be a way to undo your fuckups. Not just redeem yourself for them but actually undo them, make them so that they never happened. He wanted to take back every second of heartbreak he’d caused his wife. She did not deserve any of it, had done nothing to deserve his complete and disastrous breakdown.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

He was supposed to be indestructible. He was supposed to be humble despite being brilliant, affable despite his sheer domination on the court.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid

[plathbelljar]

When there is only you, you do not get to choose which jobs you want, you do not get to decide you are incapable of anything. There is no room for distaste or weakness. You must do it all. All of the ugliness, the sadness, the things most people can’t stand to even think about, all must live inside of you. You must be capable of everything.

Malibu Rising,  Taylor Jenkins Reid