IN BETWEEN BROKEN GLASS:
There were many times when I grew up where I found
myself between broken glass. I grew up in a house made of glass. The perfect
family. The hardworking successful father, the big house, the amazingly
talented siblings. The religious family with the mother who could work night
and day to provide the structures to keep the glass walls standing strong.
Slowly in the pursuit of perfection and polished glistening, showcasing the
perfection of a picture for the world, micro fractures from the pressure of
maintaining these brilliantly constructed walls started forming. It is blissful
to live in a glass house, as everything inside seem haloed by light. Everything
seems privileged and unnaturally glorified.
The explosions of tempers from tension came too soon, broken glass from frustration,
that hit walls and ended up on the tiles. The mess that the one who exploded
had to clean up as that poor soul could not withstand the pressure, nor could
that soul keep up with the perfection or the tension of the unrealistic pressures
of keeping these high glass walls pristine.
Glasses were filled with the fruitful intoxication of nature’s fluid-escape and
it ended up on tiles. A body numerous times ended up between pieces of glass,
only to clean the mess after an explosion of not being able to withstand the
unbearable pressure of trying to keep glass walls up. Two arms were just not
enough to hold all the walls together and more than less, we had to witness a
trapped soul in a glass house suffocate. The door was always open, but for the center
piece there was no escape as this center piece was inwardly under the pressure
of very heavy glass walls.
And when everyone fled the glass house and the immense pressure it was emerged
under, in hopes that they would not have to witness the final explosion, a body
was left in between pieces of broken glass and it was there that I not only
found myself but we could extend a hand to lift a soul up onto her feet, help
clean up the mess by realizing that even if the center structure is the
strongest structure ever designed, the construction plan was always flawed as
the walls were too heavy for only one fulcrum.
We can only be strong for so long and it is in between broken glass that we
find who we really are in the reflection of the broken pieces.
©️Ina Brink
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