Where the mother sings and holds her ill newborn,
cradling it with a smile, even after the child has passed.
It is where the light eerie music plays in the back of your head.
where you cannot run from what you wish you had forgotten.
It’s where the old man rocks back and forth in his rocking chair,
singing the song his wife had once sung to him,
soft hums mimicking the demons in his head,
and he will hum for her forgetting that she flew to another place.
He runs to the house,
its at the end of the night,
it’s in the back of his mind,
where darkest dark is,
shadows that can touch,
and people with common sense.
The place where lies destroy your mind,
it is where you realize you are broken,
yet saying that means you were once hole,
only another lie.
It’s where you go to get away from screams,
but your own mind is the loudest screams you could possibly hear.
It’s the toilet that you visit after every meal
the blue color of your veins
a house that was never a home
it’s the pain in your chest that never goes away
it is a place where you wait for those words
“beautiful”
“your mind is beautiful”
because beauty is not what you are surrounded by,
it's your soul.
It’s the question
what does your house look like at the end of the night?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
Where the mother sings and holds her ill newborn,
cradling it with a smile, even after the child has passed.
It is where the light eerie music plays in the back of your head.
where you cannot run from what you wish you had forgotten.
It’s where the old man rocks back and forth in his rocking chair,
singing the song his wife had once sung to him,
soft hums mimicking the demons in his head,
and he will hum for her forgetting that she flew to another place.
He runs to the house,
its at the end of the night,
it’s in the back of his mind,
where darkest dark is,
shadows that can touch,
and people with common sense.
The place where lies destroy your mind,
it is where you realize you are broken,
yet saying that means you were once hole,
only another lie.
It’s where you go to get away from screams,
but your own mind is the loudest screams you could possibly hear.
It’s the toilet that you visit after every meal
the blue color of your veins
a house that was never a home
it’s the pain in your chest that never goes away
it is a place where you wait for those words
“beautiful”
“your mind is beautiful”
because beauty is not what you are surrounded by,
it's your soul.
It’s the question
what does your house look like at the end of the night?
