Heather Peters (2013) “Glass Face,” The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 35 : No. 2

I live in a glass face,

my windows covered by curtains too thin.

Giving view to a room made bare by those standing on the street—

each thought makes an appearance without permission.

Surrounded by the shimmering shelter,

its protection an illusion, I did not

realize its ability to distort the view from within.

I see what I want to see, not what is.

But the light shows it for what it is—

A mirage, mocking me with false promises.

And I, too arrogant to recognize the difference,

Fall beneath the spell and am lost.

The timing is perfect, aimed for maximum impact,

the destruction is complete. While the fragments

do not cut deeply, the wounds are too many

To tend all at once.

The blame for the failure to hold, to stand firm

falls wholly on my shoulders, and stupidly

I stare at the pile of glistening glass, willing

it to magically return to its previous shape.

I have already forgotten that I live

in a glass face, a heart worn bare

and utterly unprotected.