My thoughts are crabbed and sallow, <br />My tears like vinegar, <br />Or the bitter blinking yellow <br />Of an acetic star. <br /> <br />Tonight the caustic wind, love, <br />Gossips late and soon, <br />And I wear the wry-faced pucker of <br />The sour lemon moon. <br /> <br />While like an early summer plum, <br />Puny, green, and tart, <br />Droops upon its wizened stem <br />My lean, unripened heart.<br /><br />Sylvia Plath<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jilted/
