Mental health feelings · Poems

Shards of Glass

Bad memories are like shards of broken glass.

A looking glass into the past that cut me deep every time I think of them.

Lodged in my mind buried deep into the scarred mess that I am.

What was once a fragile structure, a sparkling glass house of hopes and dreams now lays in tatters around me.

Walking through the wreck, I let the images slice me, shred me. 

Both tears and blood flow to soak the ground around me.

I see the past, I see the pain, I walk through the battlefield of what I once was and mourn for who I used to be.



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