DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, stranger to me, could it be?

what kind of sin?
won't resemble your own self again?
placing your chest upon mine
not really the same spark now been drawn a line
the touch of a skeleton in hollow
literal meaning feels of the ribs in shallow
the tone of that fair skin wrapping the beat of your heart
what kind of distance rips a memory apart?
some a fear of the remembrance?
more like fear of forgetting the sequenced penance
change of pages isn't what I hate
more like the sense of loss it contains
the one a mind enters a loop of lies
& she sinks & she drowns & she dies
either leave me from myself
or take me to your bookshelf

                                                      ­                                 -----ravenfeels