By Mac Guerreiro
Sometimes this all feels temporary yet more temporary than most things,
Sometimes it feels like borrowed time,
Sweet, sweet time it is yet borrowed nonetheless,
Voices shyly whisper in the depths, reminding me of my fears,
Their whispers let me know Eye’m not here,
Burrowed in my head eye come up for air, yet Eye’m still neck-deep in despair.
Born in Brazil and raised in California eye am an artist better identified as a conscious creator and intuitive healer. My gift for storytelling in various forms as well as my keen perception into the metaphysical allows me to share my perspective in ways that eye hope are of help and use to those around me. Thank you for reading, listening and watching; it means the world to me. View more posts
