I feel like a glass vase.

A vase that is on a small stand

A stand that is constantly being moved and shaken,

Wind pushing it back and forth.

With each movement, the vase shifts

Until suddenly it’s teetering on the edge.

Crash.

The vase is shattered into a million pieces.

When someone realizes, they try to fix it.

Using scotch tape,

They slowly piece it back together.

It stands back on its stool,

Thinking it is safe

But not for long.

Life comes whipping back around, coming from all directions.

Before anyone could blink,

The vase is back on the floor,

Helpless once more.

This time, the pieces are smaller and no one tries to fix it.

It is thrown away.

Left in the dark, hoping that someone will find it,

And piece it back together once more.