"People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones"* she said.

"Well" I said
Maybe I don't mind this glass house of mine being shattered, maybe that's the idea.

Maybe I'd prefer to be seen in all my transparency so you can no longer doubt or question me, cause maybe the glass that forms the walls of this cage isn't see through enough for me.

It fogs with the breath left from all those half truths and words I use to give you clues as to Who I am and Who I'm not.
The words that echo back to me creating so near, so far images of the me that I've forgot.

Maybe in that fog you're not the only one that can't see me properly.
I can't see out...looks frosty
I'm cold, yet I can't stand the heat
As this glass refracts light from gazes
Of spectators and haters pointing pointless fingers as they take a seat,
Insulates a rage in me!

"People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones" she said

As if I couldn't take what was about to come.
As if to dismissively say
You're not ready yet
Don't let this cocoon you've
created come undone.
Giving me forewarning
so I could standstill and run.
Look at me!
I stand still but I run!

But Maybe I don't mind being homeless,
Maybe if I'm home less I'll feel home more in myself absent of barriers,
comforts and fears of wealth and worth
So I grit my teeth,
dig my feet into the earth

"People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones" she said

As I hailed the first one at her 
Watched the crack spread
Across her face
Creating lace shapes
And split her head in two
As her image struggled to cling on
With every molton strand of sand
Left to her but she had no time left to seek
as she fell creating a mosaic of shards,
broken glass at my feet

Stepped over them

People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones she said

Well I just did

Cause I helped raise this Glass House in fear

And I will knock down any monument to dictatorship