Static Hallway

Dust in the milk glass
Claws under the bed
Static in the hallway
There's a voice in my head

If I drowned in perfume
Would you still breathe me in?
We stitched ourselves together
But I’m fraying at the limbs

There’s a mirror on the ceiling
Watching me sleep
The bruises form patterns
Constellations on her spine

I filmed your last breath
On a camera made of time
Your eyes spoke in reverse
No language, just a curse

Her skin hums a ghostly hymn
Beneath the autumn dirt
Kitchen full of lies
And my name's scratched in the tiles
Developed in a dream
Where beauty rots in style

A ritual at dinner
Forks wrapped in gauze
She eats like she’s praying
To whatever god she saw

You blink and she's vanished
Just dust on the seat
With bones in her suitcase
And glass where she sleeps

A memory misplaced
Like lipstick on a child
She screams into laughter
It echoes for a mile

You whispered like a scalpel
Through my paper-thin chest
Said, If you feel nothing
Then you’re already blessed

A slideshow of bruises
Flickers on tape
Each frame a confession
They’ll force you to fake

The Lord’s in the hallway
But he won’t come in
Just stares at the stains
You’ve been cleaning with sin

You wear your youth
Like a costume too tight
They cheer when you bleed
Under hospital lights

A child with no teeth
Still learns how to bite
Her lullabies smother
You softly each night

Your name's been erased
From the family tree
But the fruit keeps falling
Too rotten to eat

Are you still a daughter
When your blood's on the floor?
They stitched up your silence
Then called it decor