Sea Glass
Once there was a girl
Conceived in fire and hate
And a drug-fueled haze.
But the Creator was kind
And from that fire formed a beautiful angel.
With crystal wings and emerald eyes,
She flew into her new parents lives
Cherished and adored she reflected the light,
Leaving glitter and sparkle wherever she went
But then one day, at four years old,
A policeman came and murdered her soul,
With a touch, a threat, and violent acts.
He broke off her wings and cracked her heart.
Her parents knew something was wrong,
But she didn’t have the words to tell them what.
Little by little her sparkle returned
Shining through her cracks and refracting the light.
To her, the cracks were normal.
But then one day another monster razed her innocence once again.
Under the guise of a neighbor he took what was left,
Blanketing her with evil and darkness.
Selling access to her to the highest bidder,
Passed from abuser to abuser until there were too many to remember.
Once again she picked herself up
And tried to glue the broken edges together.
Told someone in hopes of some help
“You like it.”
“You are lying”
Those words uttered with malice and unbelief, did what the abuse couldn’t
Smashed what was left of her heart against the rocks.
Her sharp edges were no longer beautiful,
Now she was nothing but pain and anger
Swept into the sea like a pile of rubbish. Worthless. Broken.
No matter how hard she tries,
She cannot gather all her shattered parts.
Again and again she is dashed against the rocks by the merciless ocean of life.
Through churning waves and thunderous storms,
Hope comes in a whisper.
Me too.
One in four
You are not crazy.
With intention, she dives back into the pummeling of each new day,
Wearing down her sharp edges.
Tossing and turning, Flailing and sliding,
She watches as many are ground into shadows of their former selves
Nothing left but sand.
But others, the strong ones, slowly transform
Bit by painful bit, the sharpness softens,
The patina of pain begins to diffuse the light
The once clear crystal softens, and frosts into a beautiful snowy hue
Turning each broken piece of her soul into something rare and precious.
Someone to be treasured
The ultimate survivor
Sea glass.
By Noelle Myers