The Shattered Girl: Watching Myself Grow Up

She was the glass she held in her hand.

Smooth and strong,

calm and contained like the like the liquid in the glass.

Then, life caught her off guard and she let the glass slip.

She thought she was on top of the world

but she was intoxicated by her innocence.

The glass hit the ground and she shattered.

Her sanity, her heart, her being broke

and covered the floor with crystal shards

while the liquid left a stain.

She tried to put the pieces together the exact same way

but she could never be the same.

Every time she picked up a piece

she would cut her fingers

so she left the rest.

Her loved ones got cut by the shards

because she refused to help herself

and some walked away with deep scars.

She tried to clean the stain

but it already set.

The memories are there.

They cannot be erased.

Not with bleach or prayers.

She pretends to be fine

but she remembers everything.

The sound of glass crashing,

breaking on the floor.

The noise pierced her ears

and the sight scarred her blind.

She was completely broken

and now not completely put together.

Some of her shards she had lost forever.

Some she stumbles upon after an epiphany.

Her scars are now a part of the person she is today.

The pain took from her

but she took something away from the pain.

It made her wiser.

It made her stronger.

She learned tolerance and acceptance.

She was a child transitioning through adolescence.

She was a teenager who wasn't ready to grow up.

Now I am young woman trying to embrace the adult world

athough I'm scared to enter.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741