the door to my room used to creak
and my mother had told me to never lock it
"the devil can be fooled into thinking you've done something wrong,
even if you haven't.
we can't take that risk, 'ris."
the window of the kitchen refused to be shut
the wind
it used to flow in and out of the house all day
gently pushing my door
in and out
in and out
in
and
out
I fixed the door when I was nine
the creak never left my ears
with my breathing-
in and out
I learned very early on, that humans pretend
to have everything under control,
as long as it is our god you befriend
when in reality, life is a just a matter of-
"when will the in-and-out end?"
I decided to make it a bit worthwhile
try to be a little vile, cover it up with a smile
how I wish I could tell my mother
I don't need to lock my door
for the angel of darkness to think I'm sinning
I already am sinning
I am a mere petal
of the flower of evil
in the hand of the devil
