Chains - Poem

I turn the corner of an empty block, and then I stop. Where am I? I let my mind wander and somehow my feet seemed to follow it, leaving me as lost as I feel when I think of you. What are you? Trespassing stranger, why do you smell so sweet?  Suddenly - it’s like you stand before me with hands stretched out. Your lips bend and twist, producing waves of noise and sense eagerly saying... Here is everything you have ever and will ever, desire. And as your clenched hands open before me, with glitter, flames and blinding lights, you reveal the life I've dreamt about for years. Yes, right there, in your very hand lay everything I want. How'd you get that?  I rub my eyes partially from disbelief and from the intensity of the glare. I look down at my hands where embers, fragments of broken life and light bulbs with small sparkles and gruesome secrets burned holes through my palm and fingers. How futile in comparison, what little I have to offer. Ashamed, I cuffed my fist. Where did you get that? My curiosity peaked, I reach out, opened my mouth to speak out, but almost instantaneously before the words can leave my lips, a rather large clock I had not noticed begins to chime and strings I had not seen pulled you away. And just as swiftly, out of nowhere, rusty chains seem to penetrate from the ground and surround me. Helpless to the bounds of my new prison, I watch as you're strapped to a chair too worn down for comfort. With it’s broken limbs, splinters, graffiti and revealed nails colliding with the scraps of hidden imprisonment, mistreatment, institution and vulgarity. Now, accompanied by an occupant too worn out for comfort, the chair produces vine-like heavy silver chains that are then used to restraint you. Layers and layers of my lonely misguided perceptions are stripped away and I watch as you unravel. The floor holds delusional characters pieces of a puzzle that makes you, you. You are formatted. Hidden beneath your shell are smiles that reaches your ears, a rustic humor that evokes a laugh that bellows deep within your stomach, and a fear of uncertainty. I watch as freedom is replayed before your eyes, as passion, ambition, power are awoken and intensified. I could do nothing, but wait and look onward as it's engraved into your brain through buried emotions, televised lies and hidden agendas. I watch as the lust for love and adventure are overshadowed by order, discipline and quest for properly prepped property. You salivate at your thoughts for perfection. Compressed and tired from years of labor, the chair releases you. A monster, too beautiful for words now stands before me. Just as before, you reappear, arms stretched, with everything I’ve ever wanted right within my grasp...