Sylvia Plath/YMMV

Broken Base: The aforementioned Biopic drastically splinters her fans because the film focuses on only the last six or seven years of her life.
Crowning Moment of Heartwarming: On the day she killed herself, she took every precaution to protect her children from the toxic gases. If still being capable of caring about someone else's life —when all that you want for yourself is to die— isn't a sign of being a good person, then I'm not sure what is.
- YMMV. If she was coherent enough to care about her children, she was coherent enough to be responsible for her actions, and killing herself = not exactly the best parenting.
  - Arguably, you don't need to be a good parent to be a good person.
Harsher in Hindsight: Many of her poems, but particularly "Lady Lazarus", in light of her suicide.
High Octane Nightmare Fuel: "Lady Lazarus", "Daddy", and a bit of "Crossing the Water" too. They are beautiful and incredibly potent emotionally, but they're terrifying.
- "Cut" could count as well, mostly because of the cringe-inducing imagery.
Tear Jerker: "Lady Lazarus" is heartbreaking:

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

True Art Is Incomprehensible: The Colossus. Most of the poems will require you to sit down and think about what the hell she was really talking about along with looking up words, phrases, and obscure shout outs; as an example, the second stanza of "Two Views of a Cadaver Room" describes a 16th-century painting.
Vindicated by History: She was a respected, though not very well known, poet in her day. After her death, she became a bestselling author, won the Pulitzer, and is recognized as one of the most influential poets of the 20th century.
The Woobie: Felt abandoned when her father died when she was eight, worried that she would never find the right man that wouldn't force her into the kitchen for the rest of her life, suffered from severe clinical depression for years, faced countless rejections for her poetry and prose, felt unloved by her mother, had a miscarriage, her husband, renowned British poet, Ted Hughes, left her in October 1962, and then she committed suicide in February 1963. It's really easy to wish you could have given her a hug.