Smoke is swirling through the air
A grayish cloud
Weaving through my hair
I exhale a shaky breath, followed by a moan
Blink to try and clear my eyes
A throbbing ache, which continues to grow
Caused by the pain riding me inside
Sitting in this cold steel chair
I’m tightly bound
Filled with despair
I know this started as a game
But the rules... The rules
They quickly changed
What was supposed to be some slap and tickle
Became so much more
No longer playful
Now after hours of sitting quietly
As I look through the smoke and haze
A sudden awareness breaks through my thoughts
Brought on by your knowing smile, your devious ways
This thought I had, which troubles me so
Which causes my veins to run cold with fear
Is that the ending to our little game
You’d always intended... to end right here!
© Copyright E.F. Rose 5.6.13
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