This thing, it changes you.
The pain, the fear, the cold, the uncertainty, the aloneness, the thinking.
But you would think I would stop
You imagine I care a bit about myself.
But there I am,
Every damn night
Not in the shadows
Because I’ve gone past caring
But in the dark majesty of the night
Oh! How the darkness makes me tiny
But in it my light still struggles to shine.
Short dress and no pants,
Maybe for a saint
Even though it could be a two headed monster.
I am weak from standing,
I know I shouldn’t be here,
But still I get all the strenght I’ll need From hope…
…that there’ll be a better tomorrow.
Maybe the morning will come
With a few bucks in my pocket
Sun rays and breakfast.
Every night I hope for morning
And I can only pray this darkness doesn’t swallow me
Because every new day leaves me wondering who I really am.
via HOE TALE — chukulee