Moira Boland “Little House of Glass”

LITTLE HOUSE OF GLASS ____________________________________________________________ by Moira Boland, Grade 9

I spent my life in a little house of glass, Caged further than my hopeless eyes could see, Leaving specious illusions that I was free. Apparitions, ghostly reflections of me.

I’m left blinded by clear walls. Raindrops pour down like piercing knives, But bounce off my invisible roof. It was god-like protection. Yet I still lay, haunted. Shielded from the rain, But I still lay rusted, Panes of glass guard my pain.

The thing about glass: You can peer in, And I may glance out. Forgotten barriers. Glass lets me be trapped but still seen. Not here, not hidden, but a dangerous in-between.

Now I lay wishing I had seen great glass gates, To know what I was crossing before it was too late.

What did Alice see… When she peered through the looking glass? Gold rings turned brass? Empty promises like my barren house of glass? I never found Wonderland.

My whole life, I’m told to strive for the title of man and wife. Glass doesn’t hide anything. Only magnifies indifferent love. To become “man and wife,” The man remains. Woman turns wife, But at a grave price. Will I be worn away like sea glass? When the cost cuts me to the bone? Do you dare visit my headstone? Lay flowers at my first place of rest. Maybe roots will finally grow.

My world folded in on me, Gracefully as a love letter. Creases formed by cruel hands, To hide harsh words. Never-ending solstice Offered no solace.

Glass shattered; fingers bled. Pristine glass house, stained red. Perfect treasures lay dead.

All you did was protect me from the rain. To save me from their “piercing blows.” But I was a flower dying of thirst. Water drained my heart of its sorrows.

My rage, once a neat cup, Finally spilt over enough To drown out your voice And to walk away. Now I wish for the memories to fade But the lessons to stay.