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An Empty Glass
I am a glass
Falling apart at the slightest pressure
Fragile and weak
Collecting dust on a shelf
A crack appears, then another
Slowly destroying me from the inside out
As I molder away on the mantle
Waiting to be loved and used
Once I was a glass
Filled with ideas (and water)
Then, alone, I ran dry
And became empty
Left alone by those who protected me
Abandoned by those who loved me
Lost by those who cared for me
And shattered by those who maintained me.
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This is a metaphor about myself. I'm slowly being pieced together right now, as I have recently left an abusive situation, and adapting to this new life is difficult.