"People throw rocks at things that shine."
Her window was anything but transparent
Residue and memories had embedded themselves
Into the glass and scars marked the paneling

Chipped pieces of tape from 12 years before
Grasped onto its surface because it no longer
Had a picture of a childhood best friend
To frame next to the sunshine and clouds

There was still an impression of her nine-year-old
Hand print from when she watched her mother
And father screaming in the yard and later
Silently begged her mother not to leave as
Car tires squealed on the road parallel to the window

Heat still radiated from when that boy took her
Up against the curtains and glass as
Another boy watched from the yard with
A camera and no one told her 13 was too young

Streaks cascaded down in a mixture
Of blues and grays that came from rainy
Afternoons spent weeping over the loss of
Her never failing God who had left her stranded
Far too many times, especially when it came
To the boy who left her when she lost a baby
At the age of 14 without telling her
Until she had already left the clinic

The locks and springs were broken by the time
She was 16 from almost leaving her drunken
Father practically in a comatose state
On the couch they had found on the side of a road

By the time she was 17, the once
Reflective glass was obscured by the firth
From her life lived in a multitude of change

But every night,
Pebbles hit her bedroom window.