Checkers.

Eyelids and city lights wouldn’t stop for anything
She was so loud
Winking at me behind that veil
Never really gone
Only hidden momentarily

I was kidnapped too young.

How do you know?
When the colors are washed out
Colors are muted, just like their mouths
How do you know with these shackles around your wrists?

We were kidnapped too young
We were so young.

Ashamed of those shackles, just like immature thoughts
Tried to hide them, tried to cover them.
And just like everything else, they bit so hard.

How do you look for comfort when all your fingers know is glass?
Only that texture.
Cold, scentless, and slippery.