Looking through the glass

Sitting, my hand on the glass, looking through to the family i threw away to be replaced with a bloody affliction, my red mark stains the crystal, a deep sense of emptiness overthrows all other emotion, and i am left with an uncertain melancholy, should it be so easy as to step through the barrier into the love i never had, or is this the wall protecting the fragile entity that i could destroy. Why do i find myself on this side, wondering was i ever on the other, watching the figures dance to the gay melodies of surrounding happiness, the unity of family. Is this deliberate loneliness, did i banish myself without the aid of secondary reason, did i do it to save myself from the invisible shackles that bind me to the everyday, or to spare kin the oblivious obscene. As time passes, and i remain infront on the glass, i see a teary distant face, reduced to cry infront of her siblings, then to look closer, to then realise this girl is me, and my family are unaware of me being there

*Part Of Something In Development*