To the heavens they stand.
With trust, she leans back to the one behind. Check.
Extends her hands to the one in front. Check.
Something feels uneasy.
Three beats a second…her heart gets speedy.
She looks quickly; Right to left. Left to right.
All four walls still in sight.
So her heart returns to a steady pace.
A calming state.
Her fortress of safety.
She walks onward complacently.
Then, from seemingly nowhere a gentleman appears.
Yet, her glass guards keep him from drawing near.
He speaks, She listens…then quickly walks pass.
He whispers, “Love, your walls are made of glass.”
She reexamines her space.
Now questioning the confines of her secret place.
See in her glass walls of deception,
she only saw her reflection
Never taking a second
to see beyond her smidgens of imperfection.
So she grabs the Windex,
Tries to clean them perfect.
Can’t let him see yet,
her past; her regrets
Her tears; her secrets.
Yet, he looks past the stains on her glass pains
He sees what remains.
A girl whose soul has been changed
Whose light can’t be contained.
She surrenders it all.
Lets the glass fall.
By the piercing sounds
of the four fragile walls
where she was once bound.
For a moment I looks down.
By the shattered pieces of past pain.
In a statue like stillness I stands
He senses my vulnerability.
He extends his hand.
Yet even as I stand in sheer nudity
I grabs his hand, trustingly.
For he gazed into the soul of me.
Never once noticing
Those walls I thought molded me.