By Mac Guerreiro
Eggshells,
You don’t want to feel like you’re walking on eggshells,
Eye get that,
More than you know,
Maybe that has to do,
With why eye am this way,
So attached,
It’s insane,
Truly,
Searching for a sense of control,
In those things eye find the gold,
Bigger issues have been nearly overcome,
So naturally,
Out pops this one,
Coming from the depths of the soul,
A part so frightened she holds onto everything for a sense of control,
Control,
That word shows up again,
Both my enemy and my friend,
Perhaps more of an enemy right about now,
Sending us into a proper freak out,
“We’re flawed”
The little one inside cries,
Flawed through and through,
The tears rushing out of her eyes,
“How could anyone love me too?”
Mystical Mac 