There’s a version of me locked away in my head
That’s always on time, never has moldy bread,
She never procrastinates, never postpones,
And always pays cash for all that she owns.
She showers daily and is always well-spoken,
None of her shoe heels or jewelry is broken,
She’s good in the kitchen and rarely eats out,
Never over-imbibes when alcohol is about.
She knows what she wants, she’s confident and strong,
And she goes after it like she has all along.
She contributes the max to her 401k,
And she’s proud of the state of her Roth IRA.
She’s involved in the community, she volunteers,
And her credit card payments are not in arears.
She works out and meditates and writes out her story,
Just to help others, she doesn’t want glory.
And yet, here I am, feeling none of these things,
The version of me that I see only stings,
I had “so much potential” but not much to show
For my forty-plus years, and surely I know…
That I’m late, I’m distracted, I’m sad and in debt,
Sometimes dirty and awkward and my heels need reset,
I spend too much money on restaurants and junk,
And on most occasions I’m probably drunk.
I’m lazy, I’m scared, I’m selfish, and tired…
And one thing’s for sure - the milk is ALWAYS expired.