I am a piece of glass.

a glass that has been shattered time and time again,
losing a piece of me with every new bash/
a remnant of what I once was.

If you try to put me back together, the world will never look the same,
for
I
am
shattered.

If you try to put me back together,
you need to remember that I am a broken piece of glass,
you will hurt yourself if you hold me in your hand,
and then I will hurt you more.

Don't hold too tight,
but don't let go.

Looking at the world through me may be hard.
I have fallen so many times that I am mere piece of myself now.
Me as your lens of the world would be small and stained.
But then again, I can show you the world.


If you try to find yourself in me,
you need remember
that I am not a mirror,
but a hollow thing where you can never be reflected.

It's a lonely existence.

I am a barrier yet I am a transporter.

You will never know

I am transparent.
If you want to find inside, you can see right through me.
But do not be deceived, for I am empty.

But with all this,
I am a piece of glass.
I am fragile;
I can be broken,
so please handle with care.

It is the soul that is asleep,
and the body simply follows.

I find my soul only in the realm of darkness,
so I close my eyes
to put my soul at ease,
in its home
of oblivion.

This skin is not mine own.
For it will remain ,
When I am gone.
This skin is my home
For my time here.
Did I choose this skin,
Or did this skin choose me ?
I am plagued by own existence.
But is it even my own?

My existence  is forlorn.
From my body, I am torn.
Withered and stripped,
My soul is worn.
Inside brews an endless storm.
Oh how I long to be no more.