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House of Leaves
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2001 and earlier The eves are rain soaked.
Dreary and dark;
everything here has been painted by misery.
A glossy coat of pain,
Melancholy coloured wallpaper.
We built this house with tears,
Hung the paintings,
Washed the walls...
It's all just a big misunderstanding.
I'm just not understanding,
Anything you say.
The walls are crumbling
Falling into each other,
Our design is defunct.
Now we pick up the pieces
Of bleeding hearts,
And tattered dreams.
There will be no white picket fence.
Only wrought iron bars.
Gates rusted shut.
And all the wood work is swollen.
Shutters on the windows
To keep out the sun,
To keep out life.
It's only a try to keep you away.
Tears dry...
and the house is lost.
1:39 AM 8/23/01
