were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved Antilamentation by Dorianne Laux | The Writer’s Almanac with Garrison Keillor
Today is terrible. Today is not enough weekend. Not enough sleep. Too much wine. Anger. Madness. Impetuosity. Banging fists on keyboard. Slapping pillows. Coffee. Aleve. No, I’m not picking up the stuff on the floor. Doing the dishes. Or anything else. I’m a child. I’m throwing a fit. By myself.