illusions

House of Glass

You built me a house,
of transparent glass and illusions.
Each wall was a reflection,
each window, empty promises.

The silence between us spoke more
than any empty word.
And even when my heart screamed,
you only heard your own melody.

You said it was shelter,
but it was a prison with no doors.
The roof, a dark shadow,
where light never reached,
where air never breathed.

Each gesture, disguised as care,
was a thin thread that trapped me.
Your kisses, sweet as poison,
touched my skin but killed me inside.

I looked at you with eyes full of dreams
and saw a future that would never be mine.
The promises, as fragile as glass,
broke at the slightest touch of truth.

Your love was a shattered mirror,
where I saw myself but could not find me.
It was the reflection of who I once was,
a soul lost, in pieces,
shattered by pain and deceit.

And I stayed, because the fear of leaving
was stronger than the fear of staying.
Because, for a moment, I thought
that maybe this was love
or maybe just the emptiness of never having known
what love truly is.

But, over time, the cracks began.
The glass, once shining and pure,
no longer reflected my image,
but instead, my shattered soul.

Today, I see the house,
and I see how much it lost me.
The walls no longer shine,
and the silence that once suffocated me
now screams.

I leave behind every shard of glass,
every fragment you gave me.
With bare feet, I walk in the rain,
no longer afraid to break,
no longer afraid to fall.

Because, in truth,
I was never the one who broke.
It was the house that trapped me,
and I finally learned
that true freedom
doesn’t live behind walls of glass,
but in the courage to finally walk away.