Dear fellows, Let us make a trade. Your Masquerade for my Madcap- Though it will never go. Oh what a perfidious year, my dear; My heart is on the wire. It’s been a long time coming And so it goes- down, down we go.  

Mysterious Me

“There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart — It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood.” Why did Sylvia Plath feel that she was on display for the…