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Sorry Gang I Wrote Most Of This Last Night - Blog Posts
eggshells
i don’t tread on eggshells,
i treat them as such
but i don’t expect the same for my own.
there’s always that shell i’m holding back
but when i give it out, with a delicate hand and feigned lightness,
somehow it seems to return safe
i’ve always been one to beg forgiveness after,
my cowardice so endless i can’t crawl out
it’s almost easier when someone doesn’t have the right to care,
so i cant tell them anything raw and exposing
what a strange stuttered half-life existence i’ve sown
little kernels of truth kept inside me
i say that with some they can see all,
but i’m lying to everyone to an extent
they all get little eggshells to keep in their pockets
maybe if combined, the shape would emerge
maybe if combined, i’d be known.
it isn’t for naught, theres a part of me that wants it this way
even if it feels like a punishment