It's one of those days where I need to remember to be kind to myself
When my breath is hardly enough to give life to an elf
One of those days where I struggle to get out of bed
I cant get anything to sit right in my head
Simply for eating something, I pat myself on the back
I have to keep reminding myself not all my thoughts are fact
John Michael stipe says not to take pictures of the bad days
To hide them away and leave it where it lays
But I take the pictures, and keep them on a shelf
To remind myself how to pick me up again when I fell
I send the bad me good thoughts on postcards
To tell myself that some days are just hard
The bad me is cold, careless and not at all nice
She likes to indulge in every frowned upon vice
Yet I accept the bad me just as I do the good
Tomorrow might be a better day and the good me will win in all likelyhood