• The staring, the pointing, the whispers, and the outright bursts of cruel breath and angst. Directed towards me. I never knew that if I were to express myself and heart to people I confided in, that they would want to 'do them' and just judge, walk on their merry way, and be all about who they are, not helping those who gave them a guard rail along the way. Where is my guard rail? I thought I had kept my life contained and within its own self but much to my surprise, I live a glass life; its fragile, easily breakable, dangerous to the touch, and all but open to anyone who looks within to judge. I wish it was tinted. I want to have those close around me to clean me, keep me from breaking, but I find only those carrying hammers of judgment on my fragile life. Its a state I wish not to be in. Some days I awaken with an okay feeling about living in this glass menagerie I call a life. Only because I find people who come with care not anger, and if I am lucky, which I have been in the past, I find someone who is willing to share their own glass life with my own, creating something resembling the beautiful Louvre, holding amazing works of understanding, triumph, and compassion. I find love. But once more I should have search for tinted glass, because upon finding love, I found ignorance. Tint me world; this glass encasing my life is wearing me down. I am tired of portraying this glass as clean and sturdy when every minute with every tear, another shard falls and shatters beneath me, losing another inch of my life. I want that spark, that sunshine that simply shatters my glass prison and allows me to live with love, shared on both sides, that both are willing to fight for, not just give up on. I need people to tint my world and make it better, give me color, give me fiberglass. Something not so breakable, something with strength. But no, I feel the judgment upon me again. I am so hypocritical, I talk of wanting to enclose myself but I type knowing that now everyone who reads, or chooses to read will look within my glass life and find all the cracking flaws within me, more judgment and words of angst. I cannot allow myself to hold it in or I will not even have a glass life to hate. I will have no life at all. So please stop your pointing, look inside, help me look inside. Help me find my spark, I found it once but it dwindled towards playful fun of a life without thought or consequence. Help me find tint or better yet, help me shatter this glass encasement of a life. I am tired of living it, just help me seek something better. Give me my guardrails back. I am letting you within my glass life, letting you see I cannot do it on my own. Now its up to you and me, these hammers are shattering me to pieces, but these pieces are all I have of a life once filled with beauty, now filled with anger and resentment, towards you, towards her, towards them, towards me and towards this glass, this life, if that is what it can even be considered to any of you with pointing judgment....I live without a shining gleam or glare for now....I live without myself.