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Dec 2010
Stop, no, what are you doing?
I didn't want to be locked this way.
My hands, cuffed, are already bruising.
This is not how I wanted to play.
The room is black, so why did you blind me?
With a leather mask and a lock and a key.
I'm somewhere so dark, they will never find me.
And I'm wrapped so tight I'll never get free.
Stop, no, don't leave me here!
The door slams, and the key twists twice.
Ensnared inside, I am locked in fear.
In an infinite game of vulnerable vice.
_

'10
Margaret Sites
Written by
Margaret Sites
768
 
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