Polly

Writings and Witterings


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“I had been withdrawing into a retreat of numbness: it is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch one. But my honest self revolted at this, hated me for doing this. Sick with conflict, desctructive negative emotions, frozen into disintegration I was, refusing to articulate, to spew forth these emotions–they festered in me, growing big, distorted, like puss-bloated sores…Feeling myself fall apart, decay, rot, and the laurels wither and fall away.”
― Sylvia Plath

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