The pain before the surface, the silent suffering.
Gnawing away at enjoyment and hope
Afraid that if I voice my suffering
I validate my failure.
I should be able to cope,
I should be able to make ends meet,
I should be able to provide for my family
But my raising debts
and the things around me falling apart,
Make me doubt about my capacity
Capacity to live this life
To navigate this world of capital
All the things I need to do
All the things I would like to do
With Every holiday or birthday,
Every car that breaks down,
the financial hole gets deeper
A hole mirrored in my heart.
I feel bad for those around me
That have a father, husband or friend
That is increasingly more hallow.
I’m sorry.
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