An Excerpt
My name is Clear because I am glass. Breakable, fragile, weak. I am shattered and I am remade in fires I did not start; I am molded and formed into a key, a weapon, a hand, a lock. I am glass, bent and curved until I
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Broken.
Shattered.
I am glass.
I am see-through. I cannot hide. I am laid bare for all to see and yet I cannot see myself. I see reflections of others slide across my surface, warped and distorted but somehow more real. I see of myself only a glimpse. A flash of light, a crack in the glass.
A crack in me.
I am breaking, straining under the weight of reflections that do not exist outside of me. I am worn from battles I have not fought, I fear for danger I do not see.
Tighter, tighter, tighter, lose your hand or lose your mind. Lose your life if you’re lucky.
I am brittle, and I will break.
My name is Clear because I am glass.