I’ll cling to his chains.

He whips them out and throws them over me
The chains
There are so many wrapped around me
Each one he throws out and
It wraps me around and he tugs
It tightens and twists
Leaving bruises and blisters each time.

He delivers me and
I’m in prison
The bars have closed
And though I’ve no chains on me
I’m just as stuck
With room to walk around
I pace back and forth
I stare down the halls and
Wait for him to come to me.

I hear the footsteps coming
And I stand behind the bars
My hands grasping to their cold steel
And there he is
The doors swing open and
I find myself clinging to them
I am closing the doors and running away
I am clinging to the bars on my window
Far far away from the doors which he is stepping through
As his mouth opens
The chains, they
Fly at me and wrap me round
He tugs them as they circle me and
Slams the door closed
I would have done it myself if I had the power.
This is my prison and we aren’t leaving.

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