"Jars of self" (the bad grammar is meant to represent imperfection)

Versions of myself I have put in jars,

On a shelf for safe keeping,

Hoping one day to reopen them and be refreshed

Because there is something about this self I despise.

Contentment lies within the lines

And the glass is ready for the breaking.

Do I dare open it and risk the learning,

The moving on, the going forward, the growing up

Or do I hoard the memories, the visions of myself I hold onto dear?

I give up

I give up the longing

I give up the yearning to be happy

What is happy?

Why can’t I feel it?

Because I am not totally free,

I am not totally lost in He who has made those selfs, in those jars

That hold this clay together in His caring hands,

Because I have not given myself away to be loved,

By a love that keeps on loving no matter the person I become.