Glass Houses

If you are being abused, you must rise.

Glass Houses

 

Towns and trials,

Bruises and burns.

Eyes opened with nothing but roads of broken tombstones.

Far from the fretful fate left behind.

Beyond the broken, and open wounds.

Past trials of bloodied doom.

This is when the woman rises,

When the cries of the child ceases,

And the hum of the engine finalizes that every glass house isn’t shattered in vain.

Glass that was fogged with the dry heaving after hours of coughing up blood.

Sweaty palms writing notes in the condensation,

Trying to forget the never-ending confrontations.

The confrontations with simple solutions but 6 feet deep fury.

The whole neighborhood could see through the glass house, but no help came.

She had to help herself.

Surprised the banging didn’t crack the glass.

Yet.

He wanted hate, she hated him.

That’s enough to bury a glass house in the ground,

With the dirt crushing it till’ it shatters and the mound caves in.

Author's Note

Fell free to ask questions, give advice and/or honest opinions. What you say won't hurt but help. :) Thanks for reading and supporting my work. I hope it inspires you to write as well.

Reviews

[Shane Mohamed]

I'm sorry if you've been ever abused or known someone who has been. The abuser is always a coward, whether it's a male or female. Writing is a good thing, but you must seek external aid, as the authorities or counseling. The poem is very vivid and sad to read, but it tells the truth. Good luck, and thanks for sharing.