stained

life always looks different through the glass.

shades of yellow some green. more red. shadows of blue that swallow you.

it's hard to make out what's on the other side 

however, many times clarity makes the perfect stranger. 

it's broken. that is clear to see

but i shift my gaze to what is real –

away from the storm that shall soon pass.

the pieces have fallen away. out of reach.

no hope for repair. but there will always be another window.

another view. another stained.

another glass.