A broken frame to hold the pieces. A broken lens for seeing clearer. A broken heart to have faith in the fire.
I can’t afford to be here. I can’t afford to leave. Is it fear and feeling hopeless? Or something in between?
I tried to understand it, but it always feels the same. Silence.
In silence, I’m holding out for something. Sell myself for nothing.
It’s like breathing without oxygen. I feed it any way I can. Holding out for something. Sell myself for nothing.
A broken mirror to catch the sunlight. A penny wish for something better.
An empty promise. Dead weight, through the fire. I tried to understand it, but it always feels the same. Silence.

(s.ochsner, r. todd)