Morning me wakes up with fresh eyes to the bullshit.

Morning me is a bitch, but not a bad one, a hurt one.

Morning me wakes up with the self love and advocacy that I talk myself out of  every day by 10am.

Morning me knows I am making myself sick by allowing what I allow.

Morning me isn’t scared of money, or relationships, or death.

Morning me is biding her time to thrive or die.

If morning me dies, who I am might die with her.

I’m sorry, morning me. I know I am failing you, medicating you, gaslighting you…

But insecure me has a grip on the wheel too tight to see what she’s doing to us.

At least the road is paved. Even if it is paved with bullshit.