I feel lost. Trapped in someone else’s words. Syllables that lose their sweetness in shadows. I inhale the delight of their demons, the burn of sin soothing my own abrasions. I exhale the angelic expectations that choke me with a copper halo. Yet, I cannot move. Tethered to hopes buried in scribbles, crumpled in the debris of a future steeped in a stale ale of obligation. I do not know how long I will be held here, hi-jacking the verses of a victorious void. I do not know if I will leave once the ink flakes away, revealing an escape. Your words are a sanctuary compared to my hostile heart.