A touch, her hand. I’m trapped.
I need out, room to breathe.
But all hope is lost.
Don’t ask me why, its just my nature.
And its hell.

She’s miserable, I’m her high.
But the feeling isn't mutual. The search for escape isn't equal.
Its a one-way mirror between us.
She see’s me, and I, well I see me.
Yet we both see someone completely different.

I’m not who she believes, not anymore at least.
Every stumble she lives through, the cuffs squeeze tighter.
Every fear she gains, the sentence becomes longer.
The cell slams shut. I’m stuck.
All signs are clear, well to me.

Freedom will bring pain,
yet the wait does the same.
Me?
Her?
That’s all that remains.