you wrap your hands around my neck as you taunt "am I winning yet?" and I grin because your desire to be in control tempts me to show you my game. you're a coward when it comes to vulnerability. you drop your hands when your heart starts to skip its beats and you find shelter to be relieved. you peer viciously to see how I'm withstanding your fatal attraction. when you see an occupied heart with hands other than yours you wash the noose you call your hands to start fresh. you regain access to my only pathway for air and I hate to admit it but there's no where else I would rather decease than in your hands.