By Mac Guerreiro
It’s as if the wires are crossed,
Can’t seem to straighten them out,
On one hand eye want to be ultimately what pleases you,
On the other,
Eye want to be me and proud,
The battle eye’ve fought since birth,
That’s what it feels like,
Catches up with me at every turn in this life,
Embarrassed,
That’s the word,
And parts of me suggest that such a feeling is absurd,
Because “me” is supposedly enough,
But it’s not,
And that’s my opinion,
Eye know,
But Eye’m having the hardest time letting it go,
The desire to hide myself till perfectly presentable,
Is just one example,
But a powerful one,
That burns in my mind,
It doesn’t leave me alone,
Eye already had so many feelings around my “presentation,”
Further perpetuated by my lack of options,
Even still the desire for a solution is all-consuming,
As close to a solution as eye can get,
My mind can’t help but remind me,
Hard as eye may try,
Eye’ll never be exactly “it.”
