To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?
My body won't let me do it.
People at this hospital remind me of these
I don't need therapy
Ladies day lunch in
A hot bath to cleanse the body