There’s a creepy old man
In an old haunted house
And I wonder if he knows
That he’s the creepy old man
In the old haunted house
Or if there’s highs as well as lows
And the creepy old man
In the old haunted house
Is just a man for whom time froze.


I can imagine how he thinks of me:
The weak girl’s desperation.
But to this day, I can’t believe
It was all his manipulation.

I believed that I was stronger;
Thought that I could play the part.
Pretend I was normal a little longer,
And maybe then I’d really start.

But in all eyes, I the fool
Was caught up in the act —
Though whether it was mine or his
I will never know for fact.

Soul Cipher

I worry, if I write my soul,
There’s no one that would understand
And so, as if some ancient scroll,
I translate for my brave new land
But here, a word has lost its meaning
And there, a tune has lost its singing
And somewhere along the way has gone
The very thing that I wished put to song.
And yet, I worry, if I write my soul,
No one could ever understand
And maybe, the glass might be half full,
But that doesn’t mean it’s not half full of sand.
And, who could be that keen on drinking?
Better to reign as queen of over-thinking:
And decree instead of glasses, better a box,
And better still to double-check it locks.

Skin Deep

There are things that I’m supposed to feel
But I’m just playing out the part
And I’m worried what that hints of me
And what lies within my shallow heart.
There is a chill, an arrogance,
An over-thought-out line to use:
And I’m trying to believe it,
But I can’t quite accept the excuse.
Because I believe there should be something;
Otherwise would be too sad.
So here I am, with myself warring
For emotions that I never had.