In a House of Dreams and Glass

I stand outside the house of dreams and glass, wondering who lives inside such a place. The building is unstable, yet beautiful and pure. It's foundations crumble beneath while it is built up above. I wonder who would be so ignorant as to build their home out of dreams and glass. Looking through the glass I can see a soul who hides everything within these dreams. I don't understand how hope can be placed upon a structure so unstable so fractured and irrational. I watch from afar, passive observer that I am. I watch the home built of dreams and glass. I watch the fractures spread growing like a spiderweb. Until the entirity of the house is covered by a net of lies. The person living inside is hiding behind her dreams still pretending her home is built upon reality. I watch calmly as the glass cracks a little bit too much and shatters explosively, nearly killing the one inside. Only now, with the house torn down, do I approach the one within to see who she really is. To see who is hiding who was behind the masks. Who had the audacity to live In the house of dreams and glass. And as I walk over the shattered remains of a once grand palace, this once beautiful life, I catch a glimpse in a shard of glass. A glimpse of the person who built such a place. I gaze in horror, in fear and in pain. As I see the owner of the house of dreams and glass. And all I see . . . Is myself.I wrote this originally about a friend of mine whom I have grown apart from, but after re-reading it, I realized it fit me perfectly, so I re-wrote the whole thing, and this is what came out in the end... Written January 1st, 2002 © on Jan 30 2002 10:54 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1