It's okay in the day

[annesexton]

It grabs me by the guts sometimes. I just don't want to know all of it. It seizes my guts, anchors the ugly parts of me and who ever can write when there's someone behind you knowing all of your ugliness? I can barely write when my ugliness comes of age, is literal, is thoughtful; is not considered. I don't know how any of it goes. Wish I could bathe in that ugly yellow light they make around here.

I might wake up alone?