A hinderance of being.
I am sifting through the meaning.
Of my decomposed throat.
On the politeness I choke.
I wretch my hands in frustration.
To communicate the irritation.
All I am bleeds through.
For no one to see you.
Its a slow killing.
To be so unwilling.
And restrained to experience the abuse.
To be stripped from what you choose.
I wont scream in placid screens.
I am an animalistic ruse.