She lives in a chamber made of glass,
Transparent walls constructed by puberty.
This magical glass restricts her motion,
Though others can walk through as if it is air.
The world flings numerous words at her,
Questions, accusations, and insults.
She screams that she is injured,
They demand to see her wounds,
But the bruises on her brain cannot be revealed.
They do not see the glass,
They cannot feel its coldness.
They blame her for not spreading her wings,
For not taking flight and exploring the unknown.
Little do they know that each time she attempts to soar,
She crashes against the invincible glass,
That does not crack but shatters her soul.
They call her feeble and lethargic,
They know not how hard she tries to breathe.
They say she gives up too easily,
Complains too much and smiles too little.
All this while the pain and panic wring her nerves,
And yet she chooses not to whimper.
She can’t break through but you can get in,
Be cautious and tread gently.
Perhaps two can break the glass together,
One poisonous shard at a time.
When summer comes and the sun glows bright,
The color of her cheeks may return.
And the warmth of love could evaporate,
The dark shadows lurking in her mind.
Show her that the world is a kinder place
Than her nightmares force her to believe.
Throwing stones at the chamber from the outside
Only makes its deadly grasp more fatal.