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Glass

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Shards of glass, glass-like memories, fragments here and there. They are scattered, dispersed, ramshackle. If I am careless enough, they cut me deep, leaving me with scars that never seem to fully heal. They are the everyday reminders of regretful mistakes and expired choices. Perhaps I am the one to blame for refusing to let go of the past.

It is the same routine everyday, where I take distractions in heavy doses to shield me from the impending deterioration of myself. I am my own worst enemy. Call me careless, call me angry, call me cynical, but I am trying to find my happiness in an ocean of negativity. Memories, sometimes they are so big they leave me in a daze, warm fuzzy shadows clouding my mind. They muddle my thoughts, dulling the pain for just a little while. I am washed up on shore, scars more prominent, the past weighing heavier in my arms.

I often wonder how you could possibly move on so freely, so easily like french silk slipping through the crevices of your fingers, those fingers that used to fit through mine. How could you vanish away from me like the fleeting rays of sunshine on a cloudy day, like the glimmer in your brown eyes, like the slight smile plastered on your perfect lips? Memories here, memories there. They are everywhere. You are everywhere. Somehow you managed to manifest yourself in the most unlikely places, the vulnerable pockets of my life. I applaud you. I applaud you for the heartaches you caused me, the road you took as you walked away from my life. I will never forget the coldness of your shoulder, the sight of your back turned towards me is enough to send my thoughts reeling.

But wait. I am the one to blame.

I am the clumsy, careless girl who never learns from her mistakes, the one who plays with fire.

I am dissecting the memories, piece by piece, analyzing them and wondering what I could have done differently, agonizing over shards of glass.




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