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Broken Glass Bottles

by Iana Sanders 3 years ago in sad poetry

Surrounded...

Flowing 

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.

sad poetry

Iana Sanders

I write to release my emotions because I struggle with anxiety depression and being bipolar. So now I wanna share my poetry with everyone else and show them these things don’t stop me so they shouldn’t stop you. Let’s push forward together.

Read next: On A Dime

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