The Glass Vase

My favorite glass vase broke the other day

It's heart wrenching, really.

Knowing the potential.

Knowing that it wasn't right in this universe,

But maybe the next.

It's scary and beautiful at the same time.

Knowing that a piece of you will always be with me.

The shattered vase

Picking up the pieces was never easy.

Each time I tried it was like I was stabbing myself all over again.

The tiny cuts of the glass gleaming across my skin

Small, but so powerful.

How can a tiny piece of glass embed itself in our skin?

How can it hurt like hell, but it's smaller than an ant?

I'm not exactly sure when it all went wrong.

One moment I was swimming

Light and free and happy and alive

I was on top of the world, really.

Then the next I was drowning

I couldn't breathe

I couldn't swim

And I was always able to swim.

The day the vase broke I lost myself.

No one ever talks about picking those pieces up

The world moves on

Everyone eventually will move on.

So I did it myself.

I picked up each piece delicately

Trying not to get in the way of the stinging memories.

The laughter, recklessness, daring feats of teenage love.

Would it be called teenage heartbreak now?

I tried gluing the pieces back together.

Waking up in the middle of the night to reinforce the strength of my once favorite vase

Please, just stay.