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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Adult · #655642
my private prison... what I live with every day..
This was not supposed to have a rhyme sceme. In fact, many of my writings do not. Its just my thoughts and feelings as they spilled out on the paper.



I see them watching me
I see the hunger in their eyes
They see me outside and they seek to own me
I am not theirs They are not allowed to touch
They see my long hair
Golden brown and soft as silk
They see my skin glow
Warm and inviting, sweet as honey
They see my eyes glow
But they do not see the shadows that haunt the hazel depths
They watch my body
Thin and graceful like a cat's
The fires in their body burn
The hungry light is reflected in their eyes
Their grasping hands reach out to touch me, to possess me
I recoil in revulsion
None may touch me none may own me
You met me
You know my mind
You took the shadows from my eyes
You reached out with your heart and soul
And touched me.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/655642-Grasping-Hands