Can't mask the desperation in my eyes.
It's a feverish, fractured look.

Nobody speaks.
Nobody dares to move.

The words are gone... and in their place is tortuous silence.

This silence is agony.
It's like a prison that jails my words, puts them under lock and key.

The metallic key that binds them is held selfishly by the world, as I plead for my words- held just out of my hopeful, greedy grasp.

Grasping for something I will never get.

This prison of stolen words may be the end of me.