Some days it takes all my focus to keep the tattered threads of my self neatly in place so I still resemble some kind of cloth. These days I wake up doubting if I can smile through the frustration, uncertainty, pain, furor, sadness, enough to speak a complete sentence. Days my heart races, the tears sit fat and hot on my lashes, panic rising until it presses hard at the top of my palate. Days it hurts to take each next breath. Days I wish I could sleep and sleep and never wake.
Today is one of those days. There are so many of them, it seems.