Burning.

Bleeding.

Feeding.

Here the

knock,

knock,

knock

they want

in

your skeletons that is.

That closet’s ever so tiny,

and they seem to be the tiniest bit

claustrophobic.

So chase them away.

Hope they won’t stay.

I’ve locked the door.

And it all seems it was nothing,

but a dream.

And that means it’s more than you could ever be.