the inevitable

*thirty-three

there's something about you
that feels so clear, but when i look through,
it's opaque as can be.
i can only see the reflection of myself.
layered and stacked against the other,
from the front i can see a blurry subject.
and the side i see
the stacks upon stacks
of thickly tempered glass
dense enough to blur everything you show. words dribble off your lips like honey,
slowly i break each panel.
the cracks multiplying,
every time you look my way.
i see you sitting there alone.
more fragile than the glass you put up.
it's hard to make out, but i know you're there.
there's an end to the wall,
and i know where it'll lead.
you could conjure enough glass
to line the walls of the hall of mirrors,
but i'll still find the way to the end.
the one where i'm with you and we're okay.
the one where we can build our own house.
Where nobody has to break our walls,
and i'll protect you as much as you protect me.
the walls, fortified and strong.
it's not loud anymore,
uncover your ears.
i know the ending already.
i've read the last page.