Delicate hands weave through my hair,

the feeling of freedom fading into despair.

Fingertips brush my skin softly,

egniting a flame that burns ever so brightly.

I push them away, my heart intangible,

a mess that remains full of trouble.

Their breath stays softly,

drawing out breaths of air, skulled ghostly.

Aravicious demands hidden beneath,

and I mourn my own grief.

Hugging my knees, I close my eyes,

silently begging, please, uncover these lies.

A silent plea, imploring to be free.