Hide and Seek

I used to be great at hide and seek.
I could fit into small places
and keep still and quiet for hours.
One day, I jumped into a hole
and cut my hands on broken glass.
(See these white lines; they are scars.)
I blamed it on the weeds,
for they were what I saw.
I knew it made no sense,
but things did not have to, then.
Events just sort of happened,
one after another.
Now, I am still quite good at hiding,
though I do not jump down holes.
There are deeper, darker places,
without glass.