I try not to stare into the rear view mirror of my past, but I just keep looking at this broken glass. The glass is broken into a million pieces and I can’t even fathom how to even attempt to put the pieces back together. I replay the scene of the glass breaking and see pieces ricocheting off the walls just bouncing from place to place. The glass feels like a cotton ball despite its sharp and ridged edges as it grazes my skin exposing my internal waters. My waters soon make a river that I will soon drown in because it’s hard for me to keep afloat. No matter how I try to swim or paddle I always keep sinking deeper and deeper each time I get closer to the surface the currents pull me further down. The salt of the ocean is stinging my already exposed flesh as if I were to set my body into a blaze. Maybe I should drink it because maybe then internally I will be cleansed and rid of this evil that lives inside me. Like bleach just cleanse me of all my wrongs and dirt that I just can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard I scrub. The left over pieces of glass I swallow whole as I wash it down in the same waters. Now every time I try to speak the glass cuts deeper into my throat, tearing away at whatever I had left of a voice. So, now I just no longer speak because it hurts too much to express how I feel; speaking and the high chance nobody will see the blood pouring from my mouth due to the internal destruction is something I can’t bare. I feel like I’m in a glass display window. People walk right pass me but yet never stopped to look. I press my hands and face in hopes that any individual would act silly look back and see that I was behind the glass. This maybe one glass window that I’m unable to break. Every time I try to break it there’s not even a dent to show the progress I have made. As I look out I coke to realize that maybe instead of breaking the glass, but to break myself. Maybe then if I was in a million pieces I would be seen. Instead of feeling whole and as one, the conclusion is to shatter myself into a million pieces. Maybe just then everyone will have a piece of me.
Wow, that's deep. I'm not sure my analytical mind could even process all the symbolism. I usually write books about adolescent adventures (fiction). So, I'm afraid my poetry is quite simple. But I do enjoy writing it. Thanks for sharing. My daughter writes profound poetry too. I guess she got the gift from me, but hers is a much higher elevation than mine.
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
1 Year Ago
Thank you. I appreciate the comment it means a lot.
such a desperation in loneliness and depression in your lines .. the broken glass imaging is sharp (please excuse my pun) i think you writing gives voice to many who suffer in such a way. .. your speaker seems in a confused bundle of spirituality and human .. i imagine the anxiety such a state might create .. i am the "eternal optimist" and my weakness is to look for sunny outcomes .. your protagonist offers none at the point of your closing .. maybe he will find that being broken ... will bring the healing a life he needs .. very thought provoking read for me!
E.
Perhaps the broken pieces scattered all about are broken memories... Memories of loneliness, abandonment, pain, and suffering. Just remember, as Maynard from Tool said in his song Schizm: "I know the pieces fit, cause I watched them fall away". To put the pieces back together, you've got to know when to start. What was your most painful memory and why did you experience it? What did you learn from it? We have a tendency to replay these bad memories in our heads, but that's part of the healing process. You might even try using sharp objects to relieve this pain and release it. If you keep quiet and don't speak of your pain, it will harness you and eventually, you will drown. But hang in there! I know you are strong because you were brave enough to share this. That's the first step. Going from one extreme to another is not uncommon. You may experience extreme highs and extreme lows in one session. There is only one way to rid the "evil" you feel and that is to release it and not consume it. You may feel dirty and it is hard to shake off, but you can be cleansed.
"Now every time I try to speak the glass cuts deeper into my throat, tearing away at whatever I had left of a voice."
You have a voice because I hear it now. Keep speaking. Keep writing. Let your true voice be heard. It's just speaking and not being heard that hurts the most. There are many ways of speaking. Art, writing, poetry, and chess; can be any form of expression. The one and only glass you are unable to break is the glass of the soul. Your soul. That cannot be broken because it's eternal. You cannot break out of your soul as much as you can break out of your body while you're still alive. The only glass you need to break out of is the glass bubble society has put you in. Break out and be yourself, because you are beautiful.
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Means a lot. Appreciate the feedback
I can see the angst you express through metaphor and symbolism. It's a cry for help through words on a page, but it's the expression that counts. It's the release that all writers look for whether through happiness, joy, or pain. Keep writing.
Unbelievably excellent piece of writing. WOW!
"So, now I just no longer speak because it hurts too much to express how I feel;" as long as you are speaking or writing we are listening, you are a great writer and people are waiting in line to read you. Thank you
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
Thank you D. Mansfield for this comment.It means a lot and I will continue to write so long as i con.. read moreThank you D. Mansfield for this comment.It means a lot and I will continue to write so long as i continue to have inspiration.