they talk about the skeletons in closets
but nobody talks about how they were bodies
i’ve got people in my wardrobe
stacked up like they’re old hobbies
people i’ve hurt
people who’ve hit me
people who deserved it
people who couldn’t see
digging graves for memories
these people were small infinities
i’ve got to go to therapy
spill my guts to a stranger
maybe they’ll even tell help
create healthy barriers for me
or maybe it’ll show my reality
that something isn’t completely right
upstairs in my soul
my mind is so scary at night