It's all the same in the end

People are like glass

broken in ways none of us can describe and only some of us can understand

can you see through me, the way that I can see through you?

Am I a reflection or something tinted and foreign,

something you tried to understand but couldn't?

You're broken by the world and your mind 

you won't let anyone see

because if you did, you would have to see, too.

Do you think it would break you?

I think it would heal you.