The gold rush is on
And I'm leaving you Mom
The casons
Typing away
In the corner of the library
Waiting for
An opening curtain
Every day they take a bite of you
I know it
Help me I'm alive in here
I got caught in a
When I see your picture my heart forms a fissure
I
Sylvia, Sylvia Plath
Soaked in the bathtub while I was pushing
One for the bourgeoisie
One for the row
The pace of the
I fall every time
I don't know how I do it
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