Glass pt. 1

I try to cover my thoughts, Wrap them tight, like saran wrap — Sealed, fresh, unspoiled, So they don’t go bad. I dip my heart in melted wax, Hoping it won’t crack, But the pressure... It tears at me, Piece by broken piece, Like I’m shattering from the inside out. My skin, a canvas. Stained with the memories, Brushstrokes of my past. But I keep painting — Painting, and painting, Layer upon layer, until it cracks, Until it finally reveals the tears, The tears hiding underneath. I clear out my closet, Sorting through what’s mine to keep, And what to give away. But what if... I don’t want it to go away? What if... I don’t want you to go away? I pick up the glass, Sharp, broken, And it cuts me. But I can’t seem to let go. It stings, it burns, But if I let go, I won’t feel it anymore. And that... that scares me. Not the letting go — But the forgetting.