Nothing but a puppet on strings.
Tight knots wrapped around my wrists.
So taut that my blood begins to clot.
They prevent me from my escape.
I want to travel far away.

Driving miles until I reach the Colorado Springs.
The rugged, vermillion rock stays solid in my fists,
As I climb my way to the top of Pikes Peak, stopping to stare at a vacant lot.
I squint to see a young girl hunched over with her mouth agape.
And a tall man with an assertive stance scouting his prey.

Apparent bruising from the top of her head to her rings.
Her arms pulled back by a rope, all in a twist.
Her eyes, ringed with a red tint, and nose, filled with snot.
The man exposes the woman, leaving her undraped.
A frightened yelp escapes from her airway.

My body stays locked in place as I watch him clip her wings.
Her eyes bore into mine, glazed over with a mist.
Then the man stands up, his sin on display, and walks away like it was all for naught.
The ground became unstable, throwing me to and fro until I began to sway.

And there I am. Collapsed on the concrete of the Colorado Springs.
The rope, feeling as emasculating my hands, taut and continues to persist.
My feeble fingers push my ponderous body out of the squat.
And I look up to see a woman staring my way.