Do your writer’s ears ever burn at 3 a.m.?
Mine do.
That’s when the air purifier sneaks out for a smoke
and the trickling kitty fountain takes over the night shift.
The wine fridge hums like a sleepy oracle.
And I…
I open the journal.
This is when the Secret Self comes out to play.
You know the one—
she leaves notes for you in a voice
you almost recognize
but always question.
Does she long for you to remember her?
Why does she insist she’s the Real Deal?
She signs her name in sideways hearts
and emoji winks.
She scribbles things you won’t understand till next week.
She writes truth like it’s gossip
and dreams like they’re deadlines.
And if you ever wake up and find a line that says,
"Oh, you’re definitely not ready for this..."
Reverse psychology works.
That sneaky secret self knows how to navigate the labyrinth of your heart.
She tugs the threads so neatly, tying up the loose ends of your self-doubt.
Yeah, love, your sooo ready.
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