A folder for all my thoughts,
A cabinet for all my characters,
A desk for all the lies,
A room for all my antics,
And another for my demons.

A back up against the wall,
A foot kicking through the door,
A hand reaching through your chest,
A face layering yours.

A death with every right to be alive,
A life with every right to be dead,
A animal with hands of hooves and hooves of hands,
A spider with gloves spun of gold.