Shattered

Jenae Arreola

Glass shatters after every word spoken and shakes with a saying of, I love you. 

 There is no hurt or harm done in what is finished, but then why am I left in a puddle of tears?  

18 years does not feel like nothing to me, 18 years feels like something.  

The braided hair and the trampoline laughs are starting to disappear into memories rather than  

reality. 

 Your reality is the shining city and bright lights, but I miss your small-town cries and little  

fears.  

There is no going back to the fun we had at 10, but I want you to know that there’s still room in  

my heart after all these years.  

Do you remember the promise you made to me? Or the two after that?  

You promised you to be there for me, but we are past that.  

Thank you for the cheers and tears, but it’s time to go back to myself.  

Where chaos is welcomed, and the glass gets glued back together.