Seeing you is a lot like picking up a broken piece of glass. No matter how careful I try to be I can’t help but get a few scratches here and there. I want to stop. I try to stop. But every time I try to piece myself back together, I just end up cutting a little bit deeper.
The speaker compares seeing a particular person to handling a shard of broken glass. Each encounter leaves a few small cuts, even when they are being careful. The poem never says who "you" is, but the imagery suggests someone the speaker is still drawn to, even though being near them causes pain.
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