She lived in that white mansion Up up on the tar hill All her life she was wrapped in it Look closely to find her Between Christmas trees and patio Spinning under them wishing so hard She was a fairy and prayed for a wing Late evening, she creeped under this tree she doesn't even know the name of it Molding foods out of sands Driving in a plastic car with her feet Accidentally her right foot was under the car tyre But kept trying to drive past this root from this big tree Crossing over drains so gracefully
She told me the good times When people praised That she could write her own name on a markerboard Or when people said she was pretty In scarves even though She looked like hell She told me it reminds her Of Fleet Foxes 'White Winter Hymnal' lyrics With scarves of red tied around their throats To keep their little heads From falling in the snow Her scarves was all red too with ribbons pinned on it That she regret losing it now
Right back when she could wear dresses Without remarks from her mom That it felt good when people don't talk About her hair that is bad everyday Chocolates were shared without even a thought that she did not want it Turtles can be kept because there Were still aquariums But they went missing the next day Just like her hamster named Michael Also this cat she left at a fish market a few time But got back home like there's a GPS, itinerary and atlas all in its head
When her dad had to work until daylight She will have to sleep upstairs with mum In that little space there are microphones of which She sang songs that find ways until 3 lanes behind her house She hated the smell of the sofas She wasn't afraid of heights but Everytime she looked outside the windows she just get the chills At nights engines revving on roads Passing by frightened her so much
Once a burglar got into the room Where her aunt sleeps in When dad was working she slept to the room next to her aunt At 4:00 she heard a distant cry Up to this day, she doesn't like The holes on the bathroom walls She said she could feel someone Watching And still there's this trail of size 7 On the white wall under the window Images of a flower *** moved to the front door To stop us from running away, that *******
Now she is out of her own Beautiful tragic cage Now she can be found beside this road Her last step out of the black gates was no tears I can still feel the echoes from the pictures of her mansion Like a phantom limb hanging The air that surround the mansion now Is straight out of hell The fog like a poltergeist in her head Making sounds and moving things Oiling cogs in my head And sow the longing deep underneath To come back in summer and search for her red scarves