Sylvia Plath played an important role in bringing forth attention to mental illness within the mid-twentieth century. This original creation (down below) represents the ends of Sylvia Plath's life. It represents the descending of a great depression within her, living through the book, "The Bell Jar," and her poetic works being told by the writer who had felt everything and put it into words. Most people live with this type of mask that covered them while roaming around with everyone else. They wear this mask unintentionally but also as a cry for help. They may seem like they live and lead normal lives, but in reality, they are slowly but surely descending down into this dark pit called depression.

Within this specific poem, I talk about the suicidal thoughts present in Plath's mind, something that is very clear and evident. I put into words, like as she would as a writer who feels nothing but silence, and I painted a picture of the types of feelings she may have felt. There may be evidence over physical pain and illness, things that can be diagnosed and treated easily, but mental illness is beyond difficult to diagnose and difficult to speak about; it is something most people may try to avoid. The significance of this poem is broken down into basic terms involving the author, Sylvia Plath, and her “fictional” character of Esther Greenwood and bits and parts of her in every other character within her story. I wrote this article and poem to highlight how these silent damages can take heavy tolls on our surroundings. Open your eyes. Be aware. Be there for someone.

Upward Falling

Chaos unleashed its impending wrath, leaving me with nothing, nothing but the weight Atlas bears.

Unable to peel off that extra layer of skin, the skin of the deceiving mask I was forced, forced to wear.

Clandestine figures slowly crept up behind me leaving a silent, intractable path, a path that will surely abandon me into the depths of forever.

Through the years, I have spent my time rummaging for a door, a door that would seize me from this cruel road, but the door was never to be found, and the hope faded along with my endeavor.

Beautiful bricks built beyond faith, love, and optimism line up in attempt to block the end of the road, the road that stubbornly refused to tear.

Destroying my daunting desires drove a sharp blade through the child inside, destroying my every last drop of flair.


I dash with the wind without a hint of hesitation, finally coming to terms with my fate.

I proceed to let my final journey unfold as I allowed my last breath of despair into the emptiness, in riddance of the weight.

I let my feet shuffle against the ground, and impulsively let it dangle off the edge of the earth,

I hoped for this impossible chance of revival and Rebirth.

I finally granted my soul a taste of this bittersweet freedom, only to question why I had been so late.


Down, down, down,

To see what I can discover.

Around, around, around,

The silence becomes loud and white.

Down, down, down,

Darkness finally dispersed into the light.

Around, around, around,

The world goes undercover.


The night sky fills her hands with stars

That fall down burying the rest of the scars.

Pearls daringly descend down among her skin,

Covering every last one of her sins.

Listen to the harmonies that the angels sing

While her eyes are closed, encompassed in their wings.


Upward Falling

Something so beautifully appalling.