a collection of broken glass

disclaimer: one thing that i have feared in my life more than anything is vulnerability. to expose one’s whole heart and soul for the whole world to see fills me with a terror i can not even begin to describe. over the years, i have found the strength to speak or feel openly in front of others, but my true thoughts remain hidden deep inside the abyss of my mind . in the spirit of the end of this semester, i thought i should do something rather unusual, something i have never done before; spill the contents of my heart on to a page where eyes can roam freely. within the contents of my scattered words, there are several different storylines. i ask my beautiful readers to consider each section on their own rather than together <3


the following pieces of writing are fragments of my thoughts, shards of my past; welded together in a collection of broken glass, disjointed and incoherent but still mesmerizing.


when i turned six, i was given the most beautiful birthday gift. it was small box made out of glass. within the box was a dancing figurine of snow white. imagine. a princess trapped in glass; confined for eternity in a state of perfection.

when i turned sixteen, i  brought my box and a hammer into the garden. it only took three powerful blows for the delicate glass to shatter;  for the dancing princess to spill out on to the grass. free among the lilacs and roses.


sand. a key ingredient in the composition of glass. love. a key ingredient in the composition of me.

my parents believed that through faith and love, i would grow up to be a strong young woman, devoted to God and her family. but they failed to take into account the blows delivered by a cruel world upon an innocent, delicate young girl.

my glassy eyes would fill with water and rivers would pour down my cheeks when i came home after a day of mocking and criticism. that was in kindergarten. over time, the insults and harsh words only got worse. my glass heart cracked and splintered but it never broke. i was too strong for that. i had God on my side so i knew i was too strong for that.

it was not until this year when i became immune to the daggers lashing off of tongues. my inner fire grew hotter and hotter; the flame soon welded shut the imperfections etched through my glass heart. the agony inflicted by a spiteful world had blossomed into love and joy in my soul.

sand. a key ingredient in the composition of glass. pain. a key ingredient in the composition of me.


in my bedroom, there lays an empty jar. i once would dump little mementos , figments of the past that i dare not forget, into this

jar. so many, in fact, that the lid could no longer be screwed on; notes upon notes of love and gratitude, along with pieces of

treasures from all of the adventures, spilled out of the top. the day my heart broke for the first time was the day that i dumped out

the contents of that jar on my bed; read through every note twice before i tore it in half; crushed each treasure between my

trembling fingers. they will never comprehend how much they broke me.


if you were to merely touch my edges, i would shatter; my pieces strewn on the floor, sparkling in the sunlight.

i warned you that i was broken.

i warned you of my fragility.

so before you indulge in your selfish desires, i beg you to fix me first.


glass: delicate, transparent, pure.

in the beginning, i was whole; undamaged, untouched, untainted. fingerprints had not yet smudged my pure surface.

but that day, that one day, changed everything.

it was a day of celebration. family and friends brought together with laughter and smiles.

i remember the television screen; a tiny raccoon peeked its head out of a trash can.

i do not remember much after that, except for his hands and my pounding heart beat.

after that moment, i could not clean off the smudges. not with water or with blood.


if i were to tell you that i was nothing more than a broken spirit hidden behind a bright smile, you would not believe me;

regardless of the fact that i told you so many times. you only ever saw the good in me, the beautiful in me. never the ugly. because

if you saw the ugly, disgust and anger would fill your mind fear would come and your fallacy of perfection would shatter.


there once was a time, that when you spoke, the angels went silent; mesmerized by your delicate diction and rich tone. i hung off of every word, seeping it up like syrup, addicted to the way it sounded rolling off your tongue.

but now when you speak, an icy breeze escapes through your lips with each cruel word uttered. the love you once had for me is spoiled by hatred and frustration.


if you hold a shard of glass in your hand, it is harmless

but if you squeeze and twist the jagged piece, it will slice open your palm

always be wary when handling a damaged girl


when i walked through the door and saw him sitting in my dining room

anger and fear coursed through my veins

he can not be here

i shut my eyes but his face still haunted my visions and his voice echoed in my ears

he can not be here 

no one else felt the steel clamp tight around their throats like i did

speaking, let alone breathing was not a problem for them 

no one else felt their hands and feet stiffen

fiddling with the charms on their bracelets 

no one else had teardrops cling to their lower lashes

picturing a meadow far far away where he could never go


i am a sliver of glass

not a diamond

i know i am destructible and delicate

i know i can inflict pain just as much as i can take it

i know i am covered in pure marks and filthy smudges

i know some people will never see value in me

but i also know that i am unique

i am a creation unlike anything you have seen before

beautiful and dangerous


the end of a chapter.











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8 thoughts on “a collection of broken glass

  1. Alexis Hope,

    I am absolutely astonished by you. You just have a way of making things that are ugly, rotten, and foul seem beautiful. Your voice and style are so commendable; I could only dream of amounting to that same level. There is a certain delicacy and gentleness you have in your writing, but it is with this gentleness the reader is able to feel the juxtaposition of your lyrical writing and its painful contents. I especially admire the line: “in the beginning, i was whole; undamaged, untouched, untainted. fingerprints had not yet smudged my pure surface.” I think this was worded absolutely perfectly – from the alliteration, rule of three, and metaphor. Technically speaking, this is perfect (besides the lack of capitalization, which I totally agree with as a stylistic choice, hehe). Your writing is truly exemplary for the proper technicalities equate to beautiful rhetoric to read and listen to.

    I really can’t even imagine anything to critique; you have absolutely blown me away yet again. And here I am, scanning your piece over and over, genuinely trying to find some sort of feedback I can give you. But I can’t. I’m sure this isn’t the first time I’ve said this to you.

    Thank you for such a beautiful piece. Thank you for your vulnerability. Thank you for allowing us to see parts of yourself you wished to hide. I am so proud of your growth this year and grateful to call you my friend.

    i love you 3000,
    mia 🙂

    1. Mia Mendoza,

      Oh my love. You are too sweet to me. I do not even know what else to say but thank you. Your words filled me with such gratitude and love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

      I will miss you so much next year but you will always have a special place in my heart. Go and do great things for this world please. I will keep you in my prayers forever.

      I love you the most.

      Lexi <3

  2. Dearest Lexi,

    What a wonderful piece of art you have created. It truly paints a disjointed yet honest portrait of who you are and what goes on in that mind of yours. The glass makes such a perfect symbol for who you are and each new shattered fragment found through this post shows yet another angle at which your piece of glass shines, each unique but each just as dazzling as the last. It makes me skeptical about you saying you “BS’d” something and posted it.

    My one line of feedback, and some may disagree, but I feel like you need to have some explanation into these short poems that you have created. I know there are so many, but I would like some backstory or context to some of them to find a greater meaning that we simply miss out on. And like you commented on my poem, an explanation goes a long way to allow our AP ELA minds to relax a bit more and see exactly what your true intent was.

    Other than that, the sense I was able to make from these shattered pieces of glass were fantastic and I truly wish to see you write more like this. It has been a rollercoaster of a semester and throughout I’ve seen your voice develop into the strong powerhouse that it is today. Look forward to working with you next year!

    Luv ya,

    1. To my brother,

      Good grief I love you. You are my greatest hype man, I do not deserve you. I am so glad you liked it and offered up such beautiful words emulating how much you liked it. Thank you also for copying my suggestion for improvement, you loser. JUST KIDDING!! I definitely agree, I have wanted to offer more explanation into this piece to ensure understanding, but as I said in my little disclaimer, I fear vulnerability. The explanation will take just a little more time to come forth as I have never said some of these things out loud. But with you by my side, constantly supporting and loving me, I know one day I will. Thank you so much, Luca, and I can not wait to work alongside you in the future again.

      Much love,

  3. Dear Alexis,
    I am not like the others who have commented on yours and just want to get that out of the way. From my limited point of view, the amount of emotion in this piece is astounding, by this I mean I am assuming based on what I have read as emotional in the past. To be completely honest, I did not completely understand this but that is okay because of the dependant clause in the previous sentence. Were you just looking for an excuse to use lower case the entire time? It kind of seemed like you were. Similar to what Mia said, the symbol of glass was very strong and well used. You inserted it in your title but then ran with it from there. Good job (thinking about that phrase, it is not actually a sentence because it lacks a predicate it is only an adjective an a noun. I do not know how to fix it).
    I guess this would count as an improvement: Where the pure marks pure marks or was that not intentional, it is not really clear and what is a pure mark anyway?
    The way this was written, it looks to planned to have just come out of nowhere. Based on your disclaimer, my assumption is that you have wanted to talk about this but were not sure when so as you were ready to do it now, you basically copy-pasted from your brain to the page. I also like your ending so I will try and emulate.
    Sincerely, IB.

    1. Dear IB,

      I appreciate your feedback. This piece was very emotional for me and most of it came from my heart, so I do understand that some people will not be able to understand it, but thank you for reading it anyways! I do love using lowercase; for me it is a stylistic choice as I find power and beauty in writing when all of the letters are the same (each one is as important as the last). I really tried to work the image of glass in and I am glad it paid off. As for the improvement you suggested, I read over that section and realized that I could re-word that line so that it makes sense, thank you so much for pointing that out. In my head, pure marks sounded better but now I see how it is unclear. I posted this late at night as I felt compelled to finally just write without even thinking about it, so I definitely copy-pasted from my brain 🙂

      Good luck on the rest of your exams!!

      Thanks again,

  4. Dear Lex Luger (search up who that is, my friend),

    Before I talk about you, I’d like to talk about myself (bear with me here). Your disclaimer here about vulnerability is important to take a look at because I agree with you. As strange as it is, exposing ourselves to the harsh uncertainty helps us grow even though it is terrifying at times. I learned this through trial and error. I honestly spent so much of my life writing ingenuinely because I was scared of seeming vulnerable, so it’s commendable that you’re putting yourself out there right now.
    Lexi, this is truly magnificent – each little snippet contains so much emotion and power within every single word that I feel as though a critical analysis of this could yield pages upon pages of notes. You say that all of this is disjointed – and yet there is a common theme and it does indeed feel coherent, even though you say that it doesn’t. I want to take a moment to illustrate how special this is to read by picking out a few lines.
    “imagine. a princess trapped in glass; confined for eternity in a state of perfection.” This one speaks about the conventionality of always trying to remain perfect, which is actually impossible and traps one in the glass. It’s such an amazingly structured and executed sentence that I can’t believe that you wrote this without mulling over it for hours and hours.
    “i hung off of every word, seeping it up like syrup, addicted to the way it sounded rolling off your tongue.” The hopelessness of need and loving someone are portrayed in an utterly beautiful way here, and the alliteration of the “s” noise makes this a literary masterpiece.
    I could go on and on, but I won’t, because what I’m about to say next is a pretty good sum of my experience reading this.
    Lexi, I don’t know where the hell this skill with beautiful words come from, especially considering that you think that this is disjointed – which is a thick lie. Your words, even if you don’t know it yet, are beautifully poetic and deep with emotion.
    This is where my criticism comes in: frankly speaking, your words are too beautiful for them to just rot away and be forgotten. I need you to know that I truly believe that with a little work, these snippets can be the basis of amazing poems and short stories that you can definitly publish.
    One publishing company, The Purple Fig, publishes short stories written by women usually about themes regarding the oppression of women, the beauty of women, or other such things. I know that your work, once polished, is definitely good enough to be on their site, and besides, you can always flex to people you got published there:
    I can’t think of any other ones off the top of my head, except for maybe the CBC Poetry Competiton which will open in April if you want to adapt these into poems:
    Your writing is too good to not be published; to not be shared with eyes all over the world, and I know your strong voice and emotionally powerful words will carry you to great successes very soon. Even if you don’t choose to publish, please keep on writing. I can’t exaggerate how much I love your work and how much the world needs to love it as well.



    1. Dearest Zaid,

      I can not express how much your words mean to me. I did search up that name and man, it gave my ego an even bigger boost- I am famous now 🙂 In all honesty, you were the one who inspired me to post about vulnerability after you posted your romantic series (which, by the way, I absolutely adored). Thank you so much for your compliments, like wow, you even went through and picked out examples just to provide evidence of your claims? You are such an incredible human being, I am so so so lucky to have you in my life. I truly appreciate you encouraging me to pursue my writing, and thanks for those sites, I will definitely look into them!! Have an amazing day (I sure will because your comment brought such a big smile to my face)

      Thank you a million times over,

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