Admitted

I wanted to explore my distaste for mittens through a poem; let me know what you think. Also decided to make the title slightly ironic...

Her mother told her how adorable she looked.
Her brother explained how the extra air space held in each mitten allowed heat to collect and become trapped between her fingers, keeping them much warmer than gloves.
Instead, the sweat collecting on her knuckles made her feel suffocated. She could feel her rings slipping up and down her fingers.
The warmth in her palms made her heartbeat ring in her ears until she would fling the soft cuffs as far as she could throw and plunge her hands into the nearest snow bank.
The cool relief brought the blood flow inward and she could breathe the cold in, relishing her release.

Though it felt more like house arrest. As she began her walk home, letting her bare hands drip, a man tapped her on the shoulder. And though he could not see them, he looked down and handed her a pair of warm restraints.