it has been two days since i’ve come home. after a stubborn bout of laundry, i clumsily knock over 3 trays of crayons (to which mama responds in her sleep and assaults me with an indistinct sound spelling annoyance, and it would take rearing too ugly a head for me to say: I forgive u, mama.. but i do. u likely did not mean to, as with all the other things u did not mean to do. watching ur sleeping body now, i have a lot of love for u), and properly pieced them back together in the unforgiving dim of daybreak

I can now sleep