HandCuffs

Wrists barred raw and torn apart by the shackels upon me I strain to be free to break my binds and continue but they fight against me tearing my hands apart my hands so important to me but I must escape they are cold and ruthless unrelenting, like icy steel they nare steadfast, I continue the battle I struggle, I gasp for air sweat beads and pours down my back blood pours from my wrists in anger the shackels remain the same I look down at the shackels in contempt willing to spit on them I stop and look closer... something catches my eye... small words engraved upon them I faintly make them out... "you can't, you musn't" "people can't see that" "you can't say that" "that is controversial" "that goes against my beliefs" "children will see this" Enraged, I begin to stare by blood boils with the heat of a thousand hells I read the words again   (you can't...) my eyes bore deeply into the binds   (you musn't...) my muscles tense like vicses   (children will see this...) I close my eyes and breathe in   (people can't say that...) and let loose a blood turning roar   (you can't say that...) I  C A N  S A Y  A N Y T H I N G ! Pain, Release, Blackness I awake...on the floor... it is cold, like the binds were were....the binds... I look to the floor... the binds are next to me... destroyed... I am free... Then, I feel the pain the binds are gone...but so are my hands red and raw, the binds cut through them I am free... but they have won.down with censorship Written March 12th, 2002 © on Mar 12 2002 04:27 AM PST   0 • 1