I don’t know when it started or how it started, but somehow you had to pay.
Was it when there was no money that simple decency towards a fellow human became for sale?
Or when there was no help that it became “I did it for you so you have to do it for me”?
I do not know where I begin or where I end, the lines are blurry.
A shelter costs the price of my dignity.
Food on the table costs my suffering in silence.
And if I dare ask for cake? I forfeit my future.
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Brazen with Vanessa 