Glass Me-Nagerie

The simplicity of opening my eyes.

learning to see for the first time,

I was just a babe in women's clothing -

a babe without guidance.

alone.

I fought to make amends with you.

It was a "difficult journey."

I was filled with heartache, sorrow,

ANGER

I was alone.

Collecting shards of glass

adding them to the Glass Me-nagerie

I so deftly created.

It was instinct.

It was lust.

I was the hunter -

the prey, my game, to be smaller

and smaller

and smaller

I suffered the hunger.

I suffered the emptiness.

I lost myself

I lost the weight

I craved the momentous satisfaction of the hunt.

But I grew weary in my journey.

My menagerie was too much.

The glass was chipped and cracking -

I couldn't stand to reach the shelves

The hunt was ending.

It had to -

I had found you.

My inner child.

The little girl that loved dancing

celebrating life with

cake and ice cream.

You were broken and cold -

Band-Aids are useless for

cuts and bruises

when they live inside.

I cried.

I was no longer the hunter.

I was the prey.

I was smaller

and smaller

and smaller

and I couldn't escape anymore.

You saw me.

Brittle bones

hollow cheeks

dark eyes

you were ashamed.

I fought to make amends with you girl.

I struggled to pull myself up,

to repair the me-nagerie I had built so long ago -

my empire.

my solace.

our prison.

The "difficult journey"

is creating art

from broken glass.

Opening your eyes.

looking at what you've created.

Destroyed.

My journey continues.

twisting, curving roads

struggling through sinking sands

wandering through lush forests

but yet, you continue to lead me.

We stand together

lean on each other

we do not forget our trials.

My inner child,

holding my hand -

gently whispering

"Now is the time to eat."