Seasons When her name is of summer As she blooms into herself Her golden hair gleaming in the sun What will you…
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Here is a life, laid out in front of me like toy blocks. Wooden blocks, wooden letters, jumbled together into disarray. Though…
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The Many Faces of the “smiling woman:” A Deeper Look into Sylvia Plath’s Chaotic Beauty and Grotesque Obsession with the Holocaust By…
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Life and Death Black and White Translucent and Opaque Blooming and Wilting Dark and Light War and Peace Hurt and Healed —It…
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When I was younger, before I had a phone, my parents would always ask me to bring what they called an “activity…
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Writing to Myself Why? Recently I have been struggling with loving my body. I would sit and sulk for hours and be…