Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist and short story writer. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, she studied at Smith College and Newnham College, Cambridge before receiving acclaim as a professional poet and writer. She married fellow poet Ted Hughes in 1956 and they lived together first in the United States and then England, having two children together: Frieda and Nicholas. Following a long struggle with depression and a marital separation, Plath committed suicide in 1963. Controversy continues to surround the events of her life and death, as well as her writing and legacy. Plath is credited with advancing the genre of confessional poetry and is best known for her two published collections: The Colossus and Other Poems and Ariel. In 1982, she became the first poet to win a Pulitzer Prize posthumously, for The Collected Poems. She also wrote The Bell Jar, a semi-autobiographical novel published shortly before her death.

Anne Sexton (November 9, 1928, Newton, Massachusetts – October 4, 1974, Weston, Massachusetts) was an American poetese, known for her highly personal, confessional verse. She won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1967. Themes of her poetry include her suicidal tendencies, long battle against depression and various intimate details from her private life, including her relationships with her husband and children. Sexton suffered from severe mental illness for much of her life, her first manic episode taking place in 1954.

Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933) was an American lyric poet. She was born Sarah Trevor Teasdale in St. Louis, Missouri, and used the name Sara Teasdale Filsinger after her marriage in 1914. She had such poor health for so much of her childhood, home schooled until age 9, that it was only at age 10 that she was well enough to begin school. She started at Mary Institute in 1898, but switched to Hosmer Hall in 1899, graduating in 1903. I Shall Not Care WHEN I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care. I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough, And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.

Nicholas Vachel Lindsay (November 10, 1879– December 5, 1931) was an American poet. He is considered a founder of modern singing poetry, as he referred to it, in which verses are meant to be sung or chanted. Crushed by financial worry and in failing health from his six-month road trip, Lindsay sank into depression. While in New York in 1905 Lindsay turned to poetry in earnest. He tried to sell his poems on the streets. Self-printing his poems, he began to barter a pamphlet titled “Rhymes To Be Traded For Bread”, which he traded for food as a self-perceived modern version of a medieval troubadour. On December 5, 1931, he committed suicide by drinking a bottle of Lysol. His last words were: “They tried to get me; I got them first!”

Richard Gary Brautigan (January 30, 1935 – ca. September 16, 1984) was an American novelist, poet, and short story writer. His work often employs black comedy, parody, and satire. He is best known for his 1967 novel Trout Fishing in America. Brautigan was born in Tacoma, Washington, the only child of Bernard Frederick “Ben” Brautigan, Jr., a factory worker and laborer, and Lulu Mary “Mary Lou” Keho, a waitress. In 1984, at age 49, Richard Brautigan had moved to Bolinas, California, where he was living alone in a large, old house that he had bought with his earnings years earlier. He died of a self-inflicted .44 Magnum gunshot wound to the head.

I'm a teenage experimental poet, song writer, and author. I come from a good home but a not so good past. I explain myself through poetry and writing, because there is no other way to described me. I'm just awkward. I have severe depression and anxiety, along with other problems and struggles, and writing helps ease it all. I have love and passion for my work, and I plan on becoming a published author in the future. I try to use all senses of perspective in my writing; I wish to help change the world one poem at a time. ***PLEASE DO NOT COPYRIGHT WHAT IS PUBLISHED ON THIS BLOG. ONLY SHARE UNDER MY NAME AND ESTABLISH CORRECT OWNERSHIP. I CLAIM THESE WORKS AS MY OWN AND UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD I BE BLAMED FOR FRAUD, OR HAVE PERSONS DENY ME MY RIGHTS BECAUSE OF MY AGE AND SOCIAL STANDING. MY WRITINGS, MY NAME, MY STORY, MY RIGHT. PLEASE RESPECT MY OWNERSHIP AND RESPECT MY WISHES AS A YOUNG ADULT WRITER.*** ~THANK YOU~

Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake (26 March 1866 – 2 May 1892) was an Australian poet. Born in Sydney, Boake worked as a surveyor and a boundary rider, but is best remembered for his poetry, a volume of which was published five years after his death. Boake is believed to have committed suicide. His body was found hanging by the neck from a stockwhip at Middle Harbour in Sydney eight days after he disappeared on 2 May 1892. One writer on Boake’s life has mentioned that the suicide took place during the 1891-93 depression when the poet was unable to find work, also noting that “it has been suggested that he killed himself for the love of one of the McKeahnie girls,” sisters of the horseman Charlie McKeahnie.

Hey, well my life isn't a brief summary so wanna know it email me at iloveyoubaby730@gmail.com or Facebook message me at Tatum Reyna Tatum.

I write about how i feel and how i feel is dark sometimes idk i hope you guys enjoy? I just want to reach out for a change. All poems are my own

I am the age of 20 and I love to write poems, films and stories. I love the cold weather I really hate summer. My favorite band in the world is BOTDF.

i skydive, im also a barista. writing is my escape to an imperfect world

Foster Care. Depression. Psychosis. Anxiety. Hypophrenia. Suicide. Self~Mutilation. I just wanna share my poetry.

I just use this to share my poetry, maybe get feedback, and get ideas for new poems cx Most of my poems are untitled, i just have some trouble finding the perfect, fitting title.

My life is written into poems if you dont understand them or like them then you wont understand nor like me ..