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Haunt

I grew up in a haunted house, where ghosts framed in black and white watched me sleep.
It's a part of me that'll never leave, it's the blood in my veins and the grass on my knees.
I want to fight it, but I don't know how.
You say, you can't let it bury you.
But I'm not holding my breath, just admit they left you for dead--that summer when you went away to bible camp.
You told me that you kissed your best friend, both a little drunk and so confused, it's a part of you.
We can both admit that we're a little fucked up.
But I'll always stand perfectly still when you shave my head.
And I swear I'll protect your toothpick ribcage until you come back and apologize for leaving.
It'll be like homecoming, you'll be a banner that reads: don't be a let down.