Silhouetted feathers, dipped in Unfathomable pain, rain inside my room.
And the monster under my bed has awoken again. Feeding on my mind and the emotions I emulate
His cold, dead, hands wrapped around my brain
I can hear his voice inside my head his wondering thoughts keep me cold like bed sheets

Sometimes I wonder
If these walls could speak
What would they say after catching wind of everything they've absorbed
When I yelled my rage, distress, and disbelief at them

Sometimes I wonder,
If this ceiling had eyes
could it see
Me in a bipolar state of mind
as I write in this notebook
my moments of sadness, malice, and agony

Sometimes I wonder
If these walls were alive
have I slowly been watching them die
As I stabbed them a million times
With my lingering thoughts

And if these walls could walk
Would they walk away and leave me here
In such a lonely world
laying in my bed drowning in this shame
Buried in bones
As the skeletons inside my closet
dance above my body, & soul
in this rain made of nostalgic feathers
And the monster under my bed has replaced the monster inside my head.