at the end of the day
fairies are money
—Sophia Dahlin
holy smokes,
did i ever
fritter away
the day! i
mean, sure,
it’s sunday,
a day for
peace and
reflection,
but still,
at the end
of the day,
what has an
entire day of
lounging in
a vegetative
state done
for me,
when all
i get is an
impending
monday?
and what’s
worse: then
it arrives.
it’s here.
and it’s
just
glaring
at me.
all day.
on a
monday.
