Glass

Glass hearts, so fragile, so easy to break.

Broken glass.

My heart is shattered.  Shards of broken pieces stab my insides.  Moving forward hurts.  Moving backwards hurts more.

Maybe I love the feeling of pain.  Maybe I love brokenness and depression because it makes me feel something.

Maybe I love getting hurt over and over again because I deserve it.

Maybe I love giving a piece of myself to people so freely…

Broken pieces of my heart trail behind me.  A part of me I gave to someone.  Someone who didn’t want it.  A part of me is broken.  A sliver of my heart missing…

In the pain, I see in blue.  The world is bleak; more so am I.

I’m angry.  I’m furious.

I’m fragile.

I see in red.  I bleed anger, frustration, hate.

I bleed brokenness.

I bleed from the cuts of broken glass.

I bleed for my heart.

I am broken.

I am glass.

 

I Hate This…

It consumes me. It’s all I think about. I want to lash out. I want to hit you.
My heart aches. It pounds quickly. It feels like my heart is trying to escape my chest.
I cry. The tears burn my eyes. I’m so angry.
This isn’t rational, I know. But I can’t stop.
I can’t stop thinking about what you did to me.
I can’t stop replaying each conversation, wishing I had said what I really wanted to.
My body is shaking. I’m gasping for air. I need to destroy something.
I see you almost every day. You act so cool and collected. Nothing bothers you.
You have no emotion. No care for anyone or anything other than yourself.
That’s what I hate. You simply don’t care. Yet I care too much.
I care so much that I want to explode.
I want to scream and lash out. I want to tell you the truth.
But it doesn’t matter.
You don’t matter.
I’m so angry. It consumes me.
You consume me.
You hold so much power over me – I hate it.
I hate this…

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