Prison Bars of My Heart

Drunk women, helpless men.

Prison Bars of My Heart

　

She gripped my shoulder incoherently, as I carried her into the house. The smell of alcohol drifted, replacing the homely smells. I never knew how pungent liquor could be, my stomach was churning. She slurs something I couldn’t make out as I lay her on the couch. Her beauty is obvious, but in my eyes she looks like a wreck, I can see the disastrous turmoil within. Lying there vulnerable and sloppy, passed out from too many shots. The strange effect of alcohol baffles me greatly, a person can go from a cherished lover, to a common bland mixed up girl. Oh the days I miss where we could talk, but now all I can hear is your drunk mumbles. My muddled feelings are hard for me to handle. I hope you’ll die of alcohol poisoning tonight, so in the morning I can start to heal. But since you’re here, I will forever feel the need to be here to drag you back from the bars, and to reality.

 

"Honey, where am I" you ask, sitting up dizzily.

Your once incredible eyes, deep as the sky and as bright as the sun, were bloodshot and red. Your perfect skin is blotchy, an unwanted side effects of that 5th drink I suppose. That questioning look you give me fills me with undistracted rage; I’m surprised you can remember who I am. My heart feels tortured and overwhelmed, as these jumbled feelings bounce around my brain. I can’t bear to look at you now.

 

"I brought you home, go back to sleep" , I say, giving her a sweet voice, she didn't notice it had no emotion to it, my voice doesn't sing for her anymore.

 I’m afraid I have to leave, this house holds too much for me. I walk through the deserted streets for miles, with my feet and heart heavy as concrete. The emotions are as chaotic as a thunderstorm; I can’t see where to go from here. I’m feeling myself slowly dig a grave. When the hole is finished, the last sight I will see is her, before I plummet head first into the ground. I start sprinting back to our home, I can’t do this anymore.

                I can see through your lies, I've known how you act. I know that you don’t dance the same when I’m not there. I know those skin tight dresses aren't for your friends. If you weren't getting enough attention from me, why didn't you say something, why did you feel the need to get attention from everyone else? The thought of you dancing on table and chugging another beer just sickens me, why am I here? How did I involve myself in this mess? Your headstrong attitude kept me a prisoner; my personal weakness chained me up.

I unlocked the door as fast as I could, I had a determined mindset. I wasn't sure how to say it to you, wasn't sure how to leave you. My heart is on a string connected to your palm. The task of setting myself free was an mission set for disaster. I saw you lying there on the couch, your hand slung over the edge, the moonlight made you look perfect. But my heart doesn't race. I fall to my knees at your side, and you hear my entrance.

Your face is cold, I grip it tightly. The tears are flowing down my cheeks in such a way as they never have.

"You staying the night here?" you ask in a bored tone. I can see the hangover setting in.

"Of course baby" as I relinquish my taste of freedom, sacrifice my happiness, and bow down to the girl who rules me.