

It’s only doubts that we’re counting on fingers broken long ago
I read that with every broken heart we should become more adventurous
If you banish me from your prophets and if I get banished from the kingdom up above
I’d sacrifice money and heaven all for love
Let me be loved, let me be loved
And if my brain quits well I guess then that’s just it
And if my hands stop working you can call me lazy
And if I get pregnant I guess I’ll just have the baby
Let it be loved, let me be loved
I’ve been trying to nod my head but it’s like I’ve got a broken neck
Wanting to say I will as my last testament
For me to be saved and you to be brave we don’t have to walk down that aisle
Cause if marriage ain’t enough
Well, at least we’ll be loved.
I’ve felt the wind on my cheek coming down from the east
And thought about how we are all as numerous as leaves on trees
And maybe ours is the cause of all mankind
Get loved, make more, try to stay alive
I’ve been trying to nod my head but it’s like I’ve got a broken neck
Wanting to say I will as my last testament
For you to be saved and me to be brave we don’t have to walk down that aisle
Cause if marriage ain’t enough
Well at least we’ll be loved
More Adventurous – Rilo Kiley
There’s too many men, too many people
Making too many problems
And there’s not much love to go around
Can’t you see this is the land of confusion?
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in
Just had an argument about life shit (because of cancer) with D, and then he had to leave to get Frey from band practice before we really had a chance to talk it out and make up. Now DMB is playing Some Devil during the Wednesday night concert, and I kind of just want to lie down and cry forever.
This poem was written six days before she committed suicide, and is believed to be her last poem.
It gives me chills.
I’ve been a big Sylvia Plath fan for a long time, and there are two songs about her that I love.
First up: Crackle and Drag by Paul Westerberg.
What’s the matter here?
You never repair
The lady’s cursed with insight
You never fix her, with a cold stare
She’s all broken inside
She made a good go, like a weeping willow
Her limbs clung to the ground
She closed the window, and made a pillow
And lay her head down
And as her baby slept, she took a long deep breath
Now they’re zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
And the Cadillac’s waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
Another head cold, another spirit old
Mmmm, Febuary
Her hair was dirty, and she was 30 in 1963
And while her baby slept she took a long deep breath
And they’re zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
The Cadillac’s waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
And drag, and drag, and drag
She made a good go, for a weeping willow
She stuffed some rags on the floor
She closed the window
She made a pillow on the oven door
And took a long deep breath
While her baby slept
Now they’re zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
And the Cadillac’s waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
They’re zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
The Cadillac’s waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
Hear her blacks crackle and drag
❤️❤️❤️
And then there’s Sylvia Plath by Ryan Adams:
I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
Busted tooth and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno
And maybe she’d take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she’d ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She’d ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she’d get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she’d give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she’d be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I’d swim to the boat and I’d laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath
And maybe she’d take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she’d ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She’d ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she’d get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she’d give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
❤️❤️❤️
he’s a fucking angel ❤️
From Ladies –
Ruminations on the looming effect
And the parallax view, and the figure
And the form, and the revolving door that keeps
Turning out more and more
Good women like you
Yet another woman, to whom I won’t get through
…
Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies
Take it easy, when he leaves me, please be my guest
To whatever I might’ve left
In his kitchen cupboards, in the back of his bathroom cabinets
And oh yes, oh yes, oh yes
There’s a dress in the closet, don’t get rid of it, you’d look good in it
I didn’t fit in it, it was never mine
It belonged to the ex wife of another ex of mine
She left it behind, with a note
One line it said, “I don’t know if I’m coming across, but I’m really trying”
She was very kind
…
Nobody can replace anybody else
So, it would be a shame to make it a competition
And no love is like any other love
So, it would be insane to make a comparison with you
My current favorite off the new album, with which I am completely obsessed btw, in a way that only women who came to age in a very specific time in the late 90s can be (oh hello, class of 97).
– Karen O (YYY)
I would beg to disagree, but begging disagrees with me.
(Fiona Apple)