The sign above the door says no solicitors
Whereas the vines along the wall scream no visitors at all
Family, friend, stranger or otherwise
I never came in through the front door anyway though and I'd been here a million times
I'd lived a secret, favorite life within this house and I'd done my best to hide it
Loved it deeply, called it home but never ever dreamed I'd die inside it
I'd come in through the window, pried it open
Slipped in gently and drank here, loved here and slept here
And when it came time to leave, I thought it best to leave the way I came
But the window always stuck in odd ways when I tried to exit through it
It asked me questions
If the eyes are the window to the soul, why do you only feel alive when they are closed?
And then something else took hold and the window broke
The glass went only inches into my skin but only inches was enough
And once the guilt has had its fill, only then will the animals eat me as well

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