The Girl In a Glass Box

I once knew a girl who lived her life in a glass box She sat and she stared at the world revolving around her the world turned and she stayed Sometimes she would place her hand to the glass Seeking the warmth of the outside She could almost taste the sunshine The box barely fit her frame It pressed against her back Forcing her to crouch She couldn’t shift for fear that it would break and the shards of glass would sink into her skin. Infecting her so that she would never be free of the box When people walked past she would tap on the glass hoping they would hear her But she was afraid to tap too hard Afraid to break the box So she sat in the box and watched Days turned into weeks weeks into months and soon those who walked outside disappeared and the girl was alone She sat in the cold empty space Frozen in time her muscles cramped her feet fell asleep her throat grew dry yet she still was afraid to move Then one morning she awoke to the sound of laughter just beyond the horizon was a beautiful boy The boy smiled and beckoned the girl. She shook her head the boy beckoned again. Again she refused The beautiful boy’s shoulders slumped His smile faded And he turned to leave The girl's heart tightened “Wait!” She fought her rising panic as she twisted in her box. she felt the top of the box move The boy was almost gone The girl flew into a frenzy She pushed She prodded She threw her weight against the glass box Her long-held prison shuttered swayed and snapped in a flurry of shards and specks. The girl I knew covered in glass and cuts and bruises looked to see that the boy was lost. She was left with a broken box For a moment the girl sat free yet numb then she began to feel the sting of the glass. The girl slowly began to pull the pieces out. Bit by bit the girl worked to finish freeing herself from the glass box. She wiggled Tugged And yanked until each shard was freed from her skin she rubbed the feeling back into her feet And bandaged her cuts at last stood weak on her feet She was covered in cuts Scratches and bruises and limped when she walked but still she set out In search of the beautiful boy and the sweet summer sun Leaving the box behind