The Dream Poem by jasmine banahi

These freezing hands are not mine,
these scars on my back wrap like a vine.
this hope blazing through my eyes,
this isn't me the one who hurts in her eyes.
It stings but I still run,
the cold air beats me down but I still run.
This earth, this soil, I've never seen it before,
my body feels so stiff that its sore like before.
I keep running and i don't know why,
I have these visions of freedom and I don't know why.
Shackles that cling onto my hands,
trying to get them off as blood runs down my hadns.
I feel even though this is unkown,
what is this thing that is unknown?
Then I feel a shot of pain right in my head,
I collapse to the ground unaware that I'm dead.
Suddenly I wake up to these hands that are my mine,
but the cars on my back wrap like a vine.