Peculiar Susceptibility

"I brought my love to bear, and then you died.
It was the gangrene ate you to the bone
My mother said: you died like any man.
How shall I age into that state of mind?
I am the ghost of an infamous suicide,
My own blue razor rusting at my throat.
O pardon the one who knocks for pardon at
Your gate, father - your hound-bitch, daughter, friend.
It was my love that did us both to death."

Sylvia Plath, from “Electra on Azalea Path” (via awritersruminations)

(via stealingintolanguage)