I may be fragile,
but your forceful fists that
supposedly
promise my "protection"
are only bruising my
beaten,
battered
heart.
This cage you've constructed to
hold me home
is only making me
thirst for escape,
thirst for fingertips
   with different fingerprints,
and thirst for
a breath of different air.

I may be confused,
but your father-figure
illusions
and
delusions
only form frustration
and forsake the fire
we're trying to ignite.

I'm begging you,
release your grip,
if you want me to stay.
And if you don't,
prepare yourself
to watch from a distance,
as I run away.