you have to teach yourself how to look in the mirror again.
you have to teach yourself to feel love again.
you have to remember what is like to love and risk in the same bow.

to not ruin dinner parties and make shared space an awkward distance,
is to contain everything in a bottled jar.
whether it be because they heard it shatter, or they were cut by shards,
they saw what you spilled onto the floor.

but you have to train your eyes to not cut your body to pieces at every glance,
train your nails to not scrape across skin at every reflection.
you have to practice to not let your bones break in silence
again.