Contract of the Soul

[creekstersheart]

My lips have a favorite lie
They whisper, “…don’t worry, it’s fine”
You don’t really know me or
What’s inside this mind
The thoughts I hold captive are bound
This twine is kin to me.
It binds.
I hate myself for doing
I blame myself for thinking
What am I when I board up the doors
My eyes are the windows to what’s been sold
The dust keeps gathering
These words keep me in line
This dotted line cannot be signed
The rights are mine