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Glass Jar

May 5, 2022

I didn’t mean to let my fingers slip.

I had my life gathered in salt-stained glass jars,

laced with coffee-grind drifters and blood-thrifted stress.

I’m standing in shatters I haven’t swept,

lost in sharp seas with no land in sight.

Please slow down.

No one can hear over rippling glass waves,

and I think my voice was the first thing to drown.

Can I have a moment to steady my feet?

I didn’t mean to lose my grip—

Was it salt-stained glass jars, or just fault-stained me?

Was the world made for healthier minds,

for stronger souls and more capable kinds?

I’ve forgotten to sweep the glassy sea,

and I’m so tired I’ve forgotten to sleep.

If the jar hadn’t broken, I may have first—

I am storm-fractured pottery that melts in this sun,

breaks in this pressure,

and chips on these rocks.

Please slow down.

I will sweep the glass from the floor

and the sweat from my hands,

but while I am fumbling in this fog,

please be patient with my pace.

4 Comments

  1. Brianna Rae

    This is perfect, Cindy. This captures so much and expresses pain so well. Beautiful. 💕

    Reply
  2. Anne of Lothlorien

    I’m a little late in reading this, but this is beautiful, Cindy. Thank you for your precious words, my brave girl. <3

    Reply
  3. Zachary Holbrook

    I’m going to be pondering the imagery of coffee-grind drifters and blood-thrifted stress for a while. Thank you for that.

    Reply
  4. Michaela T.

    This is so good and relatable! I love this analogy for making mistakes, and I’m glad that you mentioned the feeling of being too fragile for a rough world. You’ve put into words what many people might feel but struggle to express.

    Reply

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