Negligence (by Megan Foster)

They stare at me with beady eyes.
I think they’re plotting a pandemic.
Suddenly I’m thankful for that chain,
Limiting their power of ignorance,
Saving me from their luxury.
We all longingly look out the window,
Wishing we could surrender,
To this room, this tower.
The chains rust and rub their wrists raw.
I circle the room again,
Hoping to find it,
Even though I don’t know what it is.
Instead I reach out to them,
Thinking we’d thrive together.
They turn away,
Consumed in their own simplicity.
They know how to escape,
I’m sure of it.
They’ll leave me,
No goodbyes, no second thoughts,
I’ll be left to rot,
with just the scars
Across my legs, distinct memories,
From my negligence, and their deception.