Shadows before dawn.

It's hard to talk to some people about things that really bother me...

You can't appeal to someone who has never lived in poverty... 

I really can't explain to you how I can't always afford food...

I can't afford to buy new shoes...can't pay into the union dues...

I really can't explain how it feels to live between the pay checks...

The anxiety of stretching your dimes several days till you get paid next...

Trying to find a loan, getting rejected in the same text...

My skins a different color, they only stick out the same necks...

I used to think that shit would get easier as soon as I got older.

I'm 35, single with no kids but the summer nights get colder...

Constantly saving all the others, but where is my consoler... 

Haunted by dreams of hollowed bank accounts, and empty strollers... 

I contemplate suicide, sure...but I would never do it...

I don't own a gun, I can't think of a way more fluid... 

I like that POP! POP! minus one...the first bullet would do it...

A cyanide capsule? I'd pop, pop, pop it and then I'd chew it...

I think of leaving this place...cutting it short...letting it fade away. 

But I think of the small group that actually cares...what would my mother say? 

I hold off, things will get better. Just wait another day. 

Another day.

Another day.

Another day. 

Another day

I have to hold on to something or I won't make it.

I get that "call to the void" shit I have to shake it...

I feel so unloved and hollow that I can't take it.

My hearts been shattered enough here, nothing can break it...

I'm picking up the pieces of me cause I deserve it.

While picking through pieces of debris I found a purpose...

I had to leave immediately and dodge the circus. 

While clinching a picture of me, It'll be worth it I know it...