anxiety · creative writing · Monsters · Uncategorized

I Am Glass.


I am easily broken from the years of abuse and neglect I’ve endured.

I am fogged, to cover the scars.

My soul has cracks so small, and some that spread across my entire being.

I am glass.

Sometimes you can see right through me, sometimes I’m tinted black. Most times I am completely fogged up. Can you see me? Can you see the cracks in me? Do you see my many scars and deformities?

I am glass.

I am broken almost entirely, but I am strong. I’ve been holding myself together for so long. It’s second nature now, to endure and just be.

I am brittle. I take deep breaths to help the time pass. I hope each day this facade is strong enough to last.

I am scared. One day I may shatter. One day I may not be able to put all the broken pieces back together. Humpty dumpty had the kings men, whereas I have myself. Just me.

Just the broken pieces of me.


4 thoughts on “I Am Glass.

    1. Thats just the thing. As I sit here at work, trying to keep the anxiety at bay, in the back of my head I think I’m alone. Like I am the only one who has ever been through what I have been through. I know its ridiculous and there’s others out there going through it too. But depression is lonely too…

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