You can see everything, in the morning light. every scar. every mark. there is something about the light of a morning that makes you feel so unbearably honest. that feeling that all your secrets can't hide, because the soft light seems harsher than that of the day. the first thing you see every morning, is yourself. and through fresh, new, eyes. you see your choices from yesterday, and you see your failures coming for today. you see the stretch marks crawling up your thighs, and you see the scars and lines that trace your once young face. and something about the morning light, in your eyes, tells you that you're not allowed a fresh start. because you see too much and it hurts. because you see too much and it hurts. the morning light scares me, and I wish I couldn't see myself so completely. because the morning light brings a new day, but it tarries in the old ones. you cannot wake without a reminder of what can be seen all over your body, and all over your soul. you're tainted by the memories the morning light clings to. the morning light is terrifying. because you see too much, and it hurts. because you see too much, and it hurts. so I do not like the morning light, though I do so love each day. and I do not like to be seen as I am, because sometimes the truth gets in the way. I do not like the morning light, for it tells me all I have done. and I do not like the morning light, because it tells me I cannot be strong. because you see too much, and it hurts.