DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I just lied to myself for a while:)

in you, in me, in us
this roof under the dust
I come to say I come to find
that to me, to myself I have lied
somethings are dwelling
becoming too much I'm questioning the act of selling
selling my paper words from hell
with a bow tie all wrapped as if feeling well
books mock me as if it's another world & all
when in fact the sun is cascading its shadow on the wall
the resentment in me could never deliver
& I wonder my sanity of head & liver
the resentment in us could never betray the kind
yet the betrayal we continue to allow in the mind
retaining what has been buried
is a lost dream I am worried
my ankle is healed but I'm still jumping on one foot
so what is it being alive? even if I knew don't know if I would!
therefore I came out of the prison tower
hence amusement never shook me in the hour
I imagine the streets are mine
for me to go back to the life of time
for I couldn't get past
what I've missed & the joy that didn't last
it's in the trickles of firm lips
it's in the darkness of road trips
radio silence & it seems AGAIN
some failed expressions denying experiences would never end
no harmony in what I see
just spurts of selfishness & jealousy
oh & I hoped for their wry smiles
even those, march to ghost until they die
coldness comes to dry on doors of mine and
for irritation to have a voice then it would be silenced
where to throw the blame? never my thing
we throw it as a hot potato & it just stings

                                                         ­             ------ravenfeels