skonen_blades (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skonen_blades) wrote2017-10-26 10:54 am
skonen_blades) wrote2017-10-26 10:54 am
Entry tags:
Haunted House
The hauntedest house of them all that I know
Has close to a few million rooms
Rooms of all sizes and colours and height
In some ways each one is a tomb
A place where a part of a person has died
A graveyard for faith and for trust
A big mausoleum for innocence lost
A morgue where all love is all dust
The ghosts here are varied in age and in height
Theres hair here that's straight and with curls
Varied in race and in culture and wealth
And most of the ghosts here are girls
There's quite a few boys. There's quite a few men.
The ghosts here that haunt do not age
They stay in appearance the day that it happened
Arrested and stopped at that stage
The time when a loved one defiled what they had
Or a person with power to use
Used power horrifically to their own ends
Used power to ruin and abuse
This house is so big. The biggest you've seen.
But it seems that there's always more room
Wings and additions and thousands of stories
It reeks of despair and of doom
It's foundation is secrets. It's walls are so thick
You can't hear the occupants scream
It's soundproof and horribly quiet inside
The house is abominably mean
The house has been present since secrets began
Since shame and since guilt and since fear
Since any coercion for unwanted contact
And many who built it live here
The house is a co-op of victims and people
Who victimized after their own
Innocence was in turn victimized first
The walls, floors and ceilings all groan
The door is unlocked and any who want to
Can leave anytime that they wish
But leaving has consequence. That leaves them hooked.
Like so many ghost minnow fish.
The ghosts here are fractions of people, you see.
Their owners are all still alive.
They act like they're healthy and happy (or try to)
Like nothing inside them has died.
But recently ghosts have leaving in numbers that make the dark realtors blush
The secrets are leaving the mouths of the living and ghosts stampede out in a rush
I hope that the house can be one day destroyed
And empty it's rooms for all time
Or that any who go there stay at most a day
Because we're all finished with lying
The house has no address. It has many names
One name is hashtag me too.
Too many people in this room live there
Statistically horribly true
But if victims all speak and oppressors confess
Then perhaps we can burn the house down
I fear that the house is eternal but hope
That soon it just won't be around
Deep in my heart I'm deep in the house
I live there in silence with crowds
My roommates just weep and our neighbors do too
With none of us crying out loud
So think of that house. It's occupants sad.
Cause each one all thinks they're alone.
But really they live in a commune of care
And speaking can bring them all home.
tags
Has close to a few million rooms
Rooms of all sizes and colours and height
In some ways each one is a tomb
A place where a part of a person has died
A graveyard for faith and for trust
A big mausoleum for innocence lost
A morgue where all love is all dust
The ghosts here are varied in age and in height
Theres hair here that's straight and with curls
Varied in race and in culture and wealth
And most of the ghosts here are girls
There's quite a few boys. There's quite a few men.
The ghosts here that haunt do not age
They stay in appearance the day that it happened
Arrested and stopped at that stage
The time when a loved one defiled what they had
Or a person with power to use
Used power horrifically to their own ends
Used power to ruin and abuse
This house is so big. The biggest you've seen.
But it seems that there's always more room
Wings and additions and thousands of stories
It reeks of despair and of doom
It's foundation is secrets. It's walls are so thick
You can't hear the occupants scream
It's soundproof and horribly quiet inside
The house is abominably mean
The house has been present since secrets began
Since shame and since guilt and since fear
Since any coercion for unwanted contact
And many who built it live here
The house is a co-op of victims and people
Who victimized after their own
Innocence was in turn victimized first
The walls, floors and ceilings all groan
The door is unlocked and any who want to
Can leave anytime that they wish
But leaving has consequence. That leaves them hooked.
Like so many ghost minnow fish.
The ghosts here are fractions of people, you see.
Their owners are all still alive.
They act like they're healthy and happy (or try to)
Like nothing inside them has died.
But recently ghosts have leaving in numbers that make the dark realtors blush
The secrets are leaving the mouths of the living and ghosts stampede out in a rush
I hope that the house can be one day destroyed
And empty it's rooms for all time
Or that any who go there stay at most a day
Because we're all finished with lying
The house has no address. It has many names
One name is hashtag me too.
Too many people in this room live there
Statistically horribly true
But if victims all speak and oppressors confess
Then perhaps we can burn the house down
I fear that the house is eternal but hope
That soon it just won't be around
Deep in my heart I'm deep in the house
I live there in silence with crowds
My roommates just weep and our neighbors do too
With none of us crying out loud
So think of that house. It's occupants sad.
Cause each one all thinks they're alone.
But really they live in a commune of care
And speaking can bring them all home.
tags