The Glass Window
Sydnie Foster
Divided by a glass window, Me and You. One side is pure blackness, the other a wonderful view. Pressed up against it, we stand face to face. One of Us the magnificent view, the other a disgrace. The blackness only starts as a blanket in the back. Which seems defeat-able; inexistent, we both just laugh. Eyes so fixated, Us our only views, Time diminishes that, creating nothing but rage and blues. The blackness now covering, strangling around my neck. The window unbreakable, not even a hidden path to trek. On the ground now, too weak to even stand. The only thing You can see, is the palm of my bloody hand. Pain and sorrow within You, guilt and anger too. What more could You have done; always an “I love you.” You say this as I scream and curse at You to leave. Confused on what to do, how to feel, and what to believe. I watch You walk away, I understand that it’s my choice If I could break the window down, I’d say this using my voice: “Please believe me when I say, there is no in between I feel like I’m in a desert full of nothing but two extremes. I can’t control my emotions; I don’t know when I will blow, They are a part of this blackness that continues just to grow. I don’t know when I’ll hate You or when I’ll think You are the best, I don’t even know when I’ll be triggered or become angry, empty, and depressed. I want to love You the right way, the way that You deserve, but I don’t even love myself, something everyone has Volume 34.1 69