I.
Here,
where the horizon meets the sky
Here,
where daydreams come and cry because
ain't nothing you remember and
ain't nothing you imagine
quite as sweet
as the time after it is light
and before it's dark
When the lightning bugs have just awoken
and the roly polys have not gone to bed
Here,
where you've never heard of slaughter houses
not for animal, nor
for human
Here,
where the clouds are allowed to just be pretty
instead of a sign of pollution and
global warming
Here,
angels are here,
in the evening light
fading fast
giving way to moonlight
Here,
saturated with love
and innocent happiness

II.
Don't let them tell you
once you make it through the night
everything's gonna be alright
cause you'll get out of that house
you'll get over the wall
but you'll never leave the ghosts
kick the dust off your feet,
but you'll feel them in your soles
seeping out
through the cracks:
Leaving doesn't matter
if it's not the house that's haunted,
it's you.
dried blood caked underneath your nails
neutrophils and monocytes
struggling to clear the infection
Melancholy anger soaked deep into your blood
Red bone marrow producing
blood as thick as mud
You can call this house haunted
But when you leave,
don't act surprised
When it's not the house that's haunted,
it's you.