Hopeless
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They are the people in the fields.Hands blistered, backs bent, sun burning skinso your strawberries are sweetand your salad stays cheap. They are the ones scrubbing hotel rooms —after your bachelor parties,your college spring breaks,your secrets spilled on dirty sheets. They stand twelve hours on a slaughter line,blood on boots, bones aching —so you can
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You ever just have the urge to cry? And I don’t mean just a small cry, but a whole body sob. To just let it all out and not care who sees or what anyone thinks. Because the last few weeks have left me feeling like it is the only way to feel less overwhelmed.
Lyrical Logic 