If you’re feeling sinister
Have your mom call the minister
Nail you to your splintered cross
Let him purify your thoughts
Regurgitate old bible verses
To further rid you of your curses
Leave your woes and your coven
Take your head out of the oven
Swear, kick, bite, and scream
Just like Linda on the screen
Put down your crucifix
Get off your cross of sticks
There are pills they can administer
If you’re feeling sinister
Florescent coats, fluorescent lighting
Padded walls to stop the fighting
You’re words and tasks become repetitive
You needed a stimulant, they gave you a sedative
Tell them the truth, they’ll correct it
You won't get better looking for an exit
So turn off the TV.
You with your poison-filled i.v.
Swap your identity
For some medical remedy
Don’t you know they’ll take you out of school
If you’re feeling a little cruel?
Keep your head down in the halls
Ignore the writing on the walls
Don’t listen to the slamming doors
They can’t live here anymore
No, the room hasn’t gotten colder
You’re just simply growing older
Ignore your phantom visitors
If you’re feeling sinister

Picture frame on my wall
Heart surgery, age of three
Scar that the doctors cut
Cover wounds that they can’t see
Crime scene of beer bottles
Your memories are doing time
Your ex-wife, a four-time convict
Your only child, your only crime
My first steps were on eggshells
Eggshells like bombs in a field
Locked me in my moon-lit room
A closed door, my only shield
So tell me again how everyone ruined your life
How my mom was such a reckless *****
Carry me to my creaking bed
I’ll here your sobbing through the closed door
Sleep doesn’t come easy
Not through my muffled screams
Did you sleep soundly, at peace finally
Or do you see me in your dreams?
My memories are mysteries
Those I trust then can’t be true
You were supposed to protect me from others
Instead, I protected others from you
Perception heals what time could not
Time writes stories on your face
Stories of you slamming doors
Doors I have left unlocked, just in case

Why is it: But they're your parents, how could you not forgive them?
And never: But you're their kid, how could they do something so unforgivable?

It’s a horrid illusion
It’s all in my head
But I fear if I sleep
I’ll wake in my childhood bed
The cracked pink walls
My nightlight still on
If I close my eyes once more
I’ll be back where I started at dawn
The mattress still creaks
With each heavy breath
My father still curses
At my mother who wept
My hair may grow out
The pictures on the walls
Stare back at me
The ghosts of my past
Who had yet to be free
My hair may grow out
And change its hue
But when I look in the mirror
I see the kid I thought I outgrew
I wonder if I’ll ever escape
Or if like my nightlight
I’ll crawl back to this place
These walls remind me of where I’ve come from
My closet full of dreams unsaid
The dreams I once dreamt of
In my childhood bed