Broken Glass Bottles

Personally I'm always looking for people to latch on to but I'm so afraid of being alone that I'm too cowardly to move forward. I find myself in still waters often yet the ripples I choose to make always turn into tidal waves attracting shards from broken glass bottles. In gaining garbage do I become a dump or do I make sculptures from these pieces? Do I build or do I destroy? I'm looking for myself and in this trip I pass through others as if to collect parts to other puzzles. I'm too afraid to create my own. Moving up and forward or am I walking up a downward escalator? When does self inflicting become self love? When does the tension between me and myself clear? When do I feel safe and strong enough with me to no longer lean on others? When do the airs of toxicity become perfumes of sweet comforting scents? When do I realize that being lost is really just the same as finding something familiar, Getting used to the new things just like hiding from old ones? I feel pain often but it's always pain from myself. Do I hate myself or is this just tough love? Is it that dark or am I just keeping my eyes closed? When I answer these questions I could find myself but I might not. I won't know till I try but I'm still in still water waist deep, moving forward with a blindfold on in a sea of broken glass.