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Sticks, Stones, and Glass Houses

I let insults fly and hit me like pebbles, tiny terrible wounds and welts bubbled on my skin I never raised my arms up to protect my face, god forbid retaliate. I want to be kind. We all stood in glass houses and yet I did not throw a single stone- My glass was meticulously shattered, my insecurities shown Shyly sinking into the broken pieces, tears burning behind my eyes The kindness I held tightly onto splayed out and bleeding in front of me, my only disguise Unable to protect my little glass house. I should have fought back, let my tongue scream obscenities, They deserve it after what they have done to me I could sharpen their stones, carry and catapult them back Throw my words one by one, until I watch- the last glass house crack.

Sticks, Stones, and Glass Houses

I let insults fly and hit me like pebbles, tiny terrible wounds and welts bubbled on my skin
I never raised my arms up to protect my face,