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The Meaning of Broken Glass

In the darkness, I felt my world crack through.
Each piece came apart...
Slowly showered into the abyss.
Broken fragments,
Beautifully shining,
Sharp and bloodied.
For a moment, another lay in my place.
I went elsewhere... empty.
The meaning of broken glass.
How a life looks when it's shattered.
Does brokenness still show, put together?
Do the pieces bleed back together...
Or do the ones who really look see?
I wondered, was I holding my own hand?
If I was, should I cut the hand off?
I'm only supposed to be me.
Is that weeping my own-
Thousands of condemned angels can only cry.
I was distracted by my breathing.
Surprised I could hold so still.
Placid, drifting glass turned to knives,
Plummeted down-
Gouging.
Telling me I had too much on my mind.
A voice cut through and
Someone told me he loved me.
I know him!
And whoever that girl was
Standing in for me,
Holding me so still...
Vanished.
I was myself again.
I felt pain and warmth reenter
And I told him I loved him too,
Meaning it. The pain subsided.

I live my life for myself.
But I live happily for him.