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if this is life
and this is home
why is it sheltered
and painted in crome?
underneath the beauty
and doubtful truths
lies what is real
the skeletal booths.
carcasses piled
high over your head
stuffed in the closets
and under the beds.
skulls lay wasting
on the floor in piles
staining the rug
and cracking the tiles.
ghostly wails
like a banshee scream
rip through the walls,
tearing at seams.
this is what lies
underneath the gold,
choking me slowly,
yet taking its hold.
i live like a spirit
in my own house
living in silence,
descreet like a mouse.
the secrets kept here,
dacayed and rotten,
will eat me away
until i'm forgotten.
i wrote this one yesterday, which i would have posted then, but that b***h kelcie hacked onto my account after that ex-friend of mine janelle told her the password. stupid stupid people.
 MasterTater · Fri Feb 09, 2007 @ 04:20am · 3 Comments |
