At four a.m., I picked up a broken jar. I wanted to repair the damages, I tried to place the pieces back as they were before, I attempted to fit the puzzle back together, but I failed. As I did so, my skin was embedded with four pieces of glass; I never noticed our blood runs in various hues of red.
I individually plucked the pieces from my skin.  The first one had a word inscribed on it: “Love”. It was written with a careful hand, cursive letters, in light pink; a reminder of roses. A tiny picture was just below the word, a heart painted in a beautiful, silky gold, so bright, it glowed.
The second piece was in the form of a triangle. Another word written in a beautiful calligraphic font, a violet-red color, so pure I could feel the velvet beneath my skin; “Lust” . Again, I discovered a picture underneath, a hand painted in the same golden hue as the previous one, so mesmerizing and appealing to the eyes; the stars could compare.
The next piece was a heavy one, the edges were rigid and could easily pierce through anyones skin. Once again, a word: scribbled so sharply onto the glass, “Anger.” I could feel a heat sensation, the burning of emotions; this one came with flames. The ink was vermillion, so dark, it could be black. Infuriated eyes were carved onto it, bled from golden ink. So rich in depth, it made the piece cry for sympathy.
The last one was a cold piece of glass; resembling the shape of a knife , so much so it could be used as one. “Hate” was the only thing on it, in a red so vibrant, it stood alone on the color spectrum. The handwriting for this one was… “peculiar". It was almost as if the word didn’t want to be there, like it was attempting to jump from the glass and disappear into the meaningless void of non-existence; it hated itself.
I was able to stain these pieces with the emotions tangled up inside. They released themselves before I could combust. I never noticed how much a person could keep in. How much water could have filled up the jar before it overflows? When it does, what are we left with? Puddles spilled from lack of control. We must clean up a mess that could have been prevented; if we just would have stopped the water before it was too much.

you give me life.
you make me understand the deep deep purpose
as to why i should connect my soul to the universe.
as to why anything even matters.
as the days pass,
as the sun rises in the east
and as it sets in the west.
the more i come to acceptance
with my inner most self,
the one that will continue to thrive
long after my heart has stopped beating
once my lungs give up
and i am again
a part of you, mother earth,
a piece of something
that i always was.
the creation of something
That i will always be.

i have built large mountains
from the fallen dirt
of the pyramids i once was.

i have created oceans from the tears
that have poured from my eyes.

i have molded the mushy part of my feelings
into sculptures built to last a lifetime.

you are not a star nor the sun,
for your light isn't far away,
lost in the distance,
or blindingly bright,
from dusk till dawn,
but rather a source of comfort
in the pitch black darkness,
fading and fragile,
vulnerable to the softest sigh,
like a candle on its way to burning out

but you make it work,
you fight through the threatening wind,
you stare at the abyss with calmness in your heart

you are the moon,
the guiding light i hold on to
each and every night

I could without a doubt retrace the steps of day.
The ones that led me to the path,
where my future indicates it shall be engraved.
Of the time borrowed from today,
I can recollect the memories right away.
The ones I see clear as I reminisce thoughts,
the ones that can indicate that I am no longer lost.

But see, as many moons pass
the more I think of you
the more I have become
loving of what is believed to be untrue.
However I can not hold my doubt against you.
From you, there has been nothing but truth.
I have found a piece of me inside of you.

May the stars be your guide
and the sun remain the guardian
of solar system.
So that you will never feel alone
Know you will always be with them.
A destiny is your desire
to know what lies ahead is what you sought,
do not leave behind the building blocks,
the ones that make you, you must have not forgot.

Again I ask myself of what it is I think is best
whether that be for the good of me
or rather leave me be of this mess.
But you
You shall witness
a never ending, everlasting soul
who seeks you when she is distressed.