(How frail the human heart must be-
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing-
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.)
Sylvia Plath, from “I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt“(via c-ovet)
Published
(How frail the human heart must be-
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing-
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.)
the moon is beautiful 
