I've been watching you and reading you throughout these past few decades. And I've come to the realization that your mind is like a book.
It's layered within these pages that reveal the signet writings of the signature "insanity" On the binding of your book.

I talk to you; and you ignore me
I look at you; and you look away
So I grab a pen and begin to write
the things I need to say.

Perhaps you'll read em later when you decide to turn a page,
or perhaps you'll try to erase these thoughts that result in your dismay.

Either way they’re written in pen and will not be written again.
And know within yourself that these thoughts have held you prison.

Perhaps you’re right and that's why I write compiling these thoughts to read later,
Thus creating these words,
between the ruled lines, creating this cell on paper.

None the less, I have no walls restricting me,
preventing me,
or obscuring what I write.
Yes, Unlike a cell,I have no obstructions to limit myself at night.

I write what I feel at the moment I'm feeling this feeling I have within me.
With no regard to what others may think, And no disregard to sinning.

I miss what I probably shouldn't
yet I regret what I probably should.
I realize now more then ever that this friendship was never good.

I feel like my heart is broken from something I cannot explain.
yet I know this is for the better but its making me somewhat insane.

The truth isn't always easy to swallow depending on the way it's grasped.
But I feel like I lost a friend.......in which it is I have.

If I were to take a knife and cut myself, I know exactly what would happen.
For I can perceive the way the blood will flow depending on my actions.

So I'll take this knife, and all these words and lock them up in prison,
and perhaps someday I'll let them free and release this inert person.

© JustAnotherInkling🎨