Dear monday,

I don’t hate you.

I get what you are trying to tell me.

I don’t want to hear it.

I get on that train, and a part of me dies.

I go to those meetings, and a part of me dies.

I get that promotion, and a part of me dies.

I sold my soul to the highest bidder.

That I put my dream on hold.

That inside I am a little lost.

I am ticking boxes.

Not doing what makes me tick.

And you remind me every Monday morning.

Monday, you tell me the truth.

Have your best day?