Rose

I heard the floorboards speak their names at night;

Rose in the shadow, making the petals do your light;

They slip through the latch like a secret on fire;

And I watched from the hall getting colder, higher;

I should've run;

I should've screamed, but the air felt heavy like a fever dream;

Their footsteps moved like a prayer gone wrong;

And I knew that the dark would not hold me strong;

Rose and mane, they came in slow;

Soft as a knife and sweet as snow;

Rose and make, I felt their way;

In every breath and my walls were taped;

Rose and make, they left a trace;

A beautiful bruise on a haunted face;

Those had a smile like a lit match glow;

Makehead eyes like a basement below;

They touched nothing clean, they broke nothing loud;

Just carved their silence to a sleeping house;

I saw my mirror learn to feel their shape;

And every candle bent and every frame;

I should have run, I should have screamed;

But the air felt heavy like a fevered dream;

Their footsteps moved like a prayer gone wrong;

And I knew that the dark would not hold me long;

Rose and make, they came in slow;

Soft as a knife and sweet as snow;

Rose and make, I felt them wake;

In every breath that my walls would take;

Rose and make, they left a trace;

A beautiful bruise on a haunted face;

Now when the moon rings low you again;

I hear their names on the windowpane;

I sing the fear, I sing the ache;

For the girl who lived through Rose and

If I sound like

I still belong to me;

It's because I learned to make it bright;

Rose and make, they came and glow;

Soft as a knife and sweet as snow;

Rose and make, I found them way;

In every breath that my walls would take;

Rose and make;

They left to chase a beautiful bruise on a hornet's nest;

So I keep my heart where the cold winds roam;

And I lock every door in the house

I call home;

Rose and make are gone, but

I still see their face;

So I keep my heart where cold winds roam;