Rose-Colored Glass House

𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤

To those who live in glass houses,
I wonder if you notice
the color of the world outside
or only the color of the glass.

I wonder if you know
that beauty can be a distortion,
that softness can still be a shadow,
that a filtered truth
is still not the whole truth.

We build our homes from what we believe.
We paint the walls with memories,
we decorate the rooms with excuses,
and we call it safety
when it is only familiarity.

But glass was never invisible.
It only convinced us
that we were untouched.

So when the cracks begin to show,
when the light comes through differently,
when the world no longer looks
the way it did before-

do not mourn the color.

Sometimes the first thing we lose
is the illusion that kept us from seeing.