Mannix had finally got the hang of this whole pirate life. he was out helping the crew dock. I was told to stay under the bunk. I had wrapped myself around his pack gaurding it. nobody bothered me though. I was just Mannix’s Bitch, his gaurd dog.

once they got the shipped docked Mannix whistled I put the pack in the cell and managed to cover it with straw then I headed above deck and sat down by his side. the captain gave his orders and the crew left the ship Mannix with them.

we finally got out of sight from the ship and the rest of the crew and Mannix put the necklace on me.

“hey, beautiful” He said with a smile on his face. “how long do we have” I asked blushing “until sundown” he said. grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the Inn.

at the Inn he gave the lady some of our gold coins and she gave him a key. I followed him up to the room.

…

I woke up in the bed with Mannix by myside. the first bed I had in weeks. “Wow” was all I manged to say.

“I know comfy right” He said gazing at me. “yeah, sure beats the wooden floor of the boat” I responded. “Im really sorry” he said kissing my forhead. “we should probably get going” I said “ we need to get supplies” “of course my love” He said with a smile on his face.

we left the Inn hand in hand and headed towards the market. "were are we” I asked “sand villages” he said “home of magic” I murmmered under my breath.

“I need you to do your other thing now” He said giving me a shit eating grin. the one he makes were he knows that we could get in trouble.

I knodded and started heading towards the crowed grabbing evreything and anything that I could fit in the pockets of my ragged dress.

we met close to the docks in an ally were I gave him the loot. and I took off my necklace and we headed towards the boots.

...

I layed under the bunk wrapped around the pack as normal. then I heard yelling I hurriedly put the pack in the jail cell and made it above deck were I was the crew around Mannix weapons drawn. I pushed my way to the circle garded and growling trying to protect my mate. but they got to him and they knocked me out.

next thing I knew I was in the jail cell with a chain on my ankle my love laying nexgt to me.

“Mannix my love are you okay” I manged to cry. cradling his head in my hands I didn’t get a reasponse his warm eyese were now blank and and where they stabbed him was done bleeding. I tryed shacking him screaming his name but nothing. I got nothing.

“Bitch shut up” yelled Nelson the whole crew was with him laying in there hammocks or around the dimmly litted table in the back

I mangaed to get to my feet. my head spinning “you killed him” I accused

no reasponse from them just laughing and drunken singing. “Im talking to you” I yelled loudly,

Nelson got up he was a langhty guy not big looking. He unlocked the cell and punched me. as I fell on the floor he grabbed Mannixs body and locked the door. “bitches stay quiet. or walk the plank” He said. “captains orders” he smirked.

Each poem I craft is a living, breathing thing. My children are scattered amongst the pages. Some leave their legacies by blood. I think I will leave mine in ink.

The link that binds me Cover to cover To the contemporary And the classic.

The future is short-form For short attention spans. But I’m a rambler—

And speak up so very little in reality That my mind is my greatest weapon And also my greatest prison.

My creations unfurl so eloquently internally—

When executed with woman and machine, Sounds like a plea for originality.

I have recycled the notion That I belonged on the pedestal along with the most esteemed poets.

I put the chains on my tongue To stop myself from pushing myself past my own threshold.

It’s comfortable in my cell of banalities Where I am my only critic.

I use to be free, but these chains hold me down. I use to smile, but these chains cause me to frown.

I use to laugh, but these chains cause me pain. I use to dance, but these chains make me lame.

I use to sing, but these chains make me mute. I use to play, but these chains make it hard to move.

I use to feel light, but these chains are made of lead. I use to live, but these chains made me dead.

I use to fight, but these chains have made me numb. I use to want to live, but now; I’m ready to succumb.

I use to be cheerful, lively, happy. But these chains will be the death of me.

Chasing me, locking me away. He held me hostage. I felt Alone, Afraid and Abandoned. In the dark, in these heavy chains. Nobody knows where I am. Someone please help me!

ALTERNATIVE ENDING-doesn’t fit acrostic theme- (Wait never mind just leave me be and go away. I’ll disappear 🫥 Into infinity.)-goes after last line.

She’s been chained- for how long? i can’t remember

she watches couple after couple walk down each street

she’s happy for them

but she wants love too last time went wrong

the last time was terrible heartache after heartache

she watches her friends fall while she’s alone

she’s been chained to nothing for too too long

there is no key to the lock on her heart she’s chained to nothing

chained to feeling nothing for fear of anything

for fear of falling well, maybe not falling itself

maybe for landing maybe for the shattering pain of a heart being broken

or maybe just maybe shes afraid of loving someone

she’s afraid to love and lose but wouldn’t she rather love and lose than not love at all?

no she’d rather be free of the nothing and run through the world watching and waiting for the emotion to return

Chains bind the captive Chains bind the souls stuck But chains bind the free too Those chains are invisible They hold us down You can feel the weight even if you deny You can hear the metal clang You can feel the restraint We see people in chains everyday From their jobs Their family Their money Chains are more then metal that binds prisoners Chains hold us back Chains limit us Break your chain Unbind yourself You can reach limits beyond your chain

If you were chains, I’d ask to be locked up. My mouth would beg for a jail follow-up.

If you were chains, I would love to be weighed down. Something comforting about the tons of pounds.

I guess it’s a little weird?

If you were chains, make me the ghost of Jacob Marley. Leave me chained to a post.

If you were chains, I’ll sit alone in the castle, make ‘em think I’m crazy, make ‘em try to hassle the chained little me.

[eh! I tried…]

I'm bound to these shackles

pulling at my wrists dragging me down

this burden I carry is too big for my hands

so I carry the heavy weight in a chunk of my brain

I can't even think straight without this chain

it reaches every corner and crevice so I can't have a real life anymore

I want to go back take it off and fly like a dove

free from the mess physical and mental

please take my chains away I don't want any more of this pain

I swore that something was going to happen today. Not like I’m going to be genuinely happy even though it’s been months since I last felt even a sliver of happiness. Not like I’m going to ditch school because I’m so tired of watching friends walk by in the hall and know that it’s the one I’ll never have. I mean like _something. _ __ __ __ Every step I took today felt weird, almost wrong. My heart wasn’t hurting when I walked alone through the crowded halls of my school. And on the drive to my millionth therapy session my eyes stayed dry. That little prick of tears never came, not even as I climbed out of the car and followed Mom into the building.

“So,” My therapist said crossing his legs as we all took a seat. Mom sat next to me on the couch and Dr. Turner was on the chair on the other side of the table that sat in between us. “I want to know what would you describe your anxiety to be like?”

My neck already starts to ache as I slowly turn my head to my mom. I always turn to her for help when I come here. I don’t care what she does I just want her to make him stop talking to me.

Mom shakes her head slowly giving me an encouraging smile that says, _You got this. _ __ __ _No I don’t! _ I think as I turn back to face Dr. Turner. What does he mean? Shouldn’t he know how it feels? I mean how is he supposed to help me if he doesn’t even know what it feels like?

“Remember a few months ago?” Mom whispers, her voice filling me with comfort. “How the doctor told you what anxiety means. How he gave you that example of the Ferris wheel?”

I nod once, that terrible day filling my mind. I know what anxiety is, but I wouldn’t describe it like a Ferris wheel. It doesn’t feel like my thoughts keep spinning around unable to slow down. It feels like I’m on a leash, being controlled by some evil force.

“It feels scary,” I say, playing with the zipper on my hoodie. “Like I’m on a chain.”

Dr. Turner leans forward scratching his forehead. “Can you explain?” He asks.

I take in a small breath, my nose filling with that terrible smell of a summer breeze. I see happy flowers and the sun with a huge smiley face. This place isn’t happy so why does Dr. Turner make it seem like it should be?

“Some days,” I look down at my hands as I pick at the zipper. “I have more links on the chain. Something is letting me have more room to escape. But if I do something that’s uncomfortable the links slowly start to disappear. I can’t do what I want, I’m being controlled.”

Dr. Turner sighs rubbing that back of his neck. “Okay, why don’t we go over some coping skills that will help—“

The rest of the session becomes a blur. I nod every once in a while to give the illusion that I’m paying attention, I can tell by the worried look in Mom’s eyes that she saw right through me.

. . .

It’s dark outside by the time we’re on the road. The trees are barely visible outside the window, just like shadows in the night.

“Maisie,” Mom’s voice is so calm that I almost think she isn’t going to bring up the appointment. “What are we going to do?”

Now the familiar prick of tears creep into my eyes. “I don’t know.” I mumble, keeping my eyes on the world outside.

Mom sighs. “I want to help you.”

No one can help me. I’m a mistake a terrible mistake. If I was meant to be helped I would have been a long time ago.

“Can you turn on the radio?” I switch the subject, trying to make Mom stop talking about my flaws.

The radio switches on, a One Direction song is half way through which only makes my night worse. I don’t even get the full song, just a piece.

Mom adjust the mirror above her, taking her eyes off the dark road.

It was just for one second! I think as Mom tries to swerve out of the way when a car speeds into us. I scream, shutting my eyes as the car rolls on the ground. My hair falls onto my face as trash falls from the bottom of the car to the top.

My head throbs as a cool drop of blood creeps down my face. The song is still going, filling the night with music.

“Mom?” I mutter, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as everything around me floods with black.

Stop Please stop I can’t Please I just can’t handle this You hate me You hate me, you hurt me But now The moment I decide I can’t do this anymore You… Love me? Please Please just let me go Let me breathe I can’t Please Stop