Behind the Glass

I see you

But you don’t see me,

Not the real me at least.

I show what the outside wants,

The real me kept locked behind

Transparent blue walls.

Seeing everything,

Feeling everything,

Yet unable to do anything about it.

She slams against the glass walls

Of her prison,

Bloody prints staining the structure

From years of attempted escapes.

The illusion of freedom

Just out of her reach.

Yet as much as she longs for it,

She fears it.

What will the outside

Think of her?

Will they accept her

Without her mask?

Would they prefer her façade?

Perhaps the prison

Is safer than freedom.

At least behind the glass,

She is protected.