There's a haunted door in my house.
I hear it rattle and shake, all throughout.
Maybe there's a human there,
Locked inside and scared.
Maybe that's what's it like to be gay,
In secret, with hands battering at the closet.
Something's licking at the ****.
Something's tongue's a flicker
And even from your bed
You feel it's hunger.

Meanwhile your too scared to even look that way,
Down the hallway.
Convincing yourself that desperate whimper
Was just the wind or a nightmare.