Bed and Breakfast

January 18, 2012
Screen doors reek of lullabies
And nightmares won't leave you alone.
You're too blind to see your own reflection
And too weak to walk back home.
You spend a week in a stranger's bed
'Cause you're too proud to see that you're really dead.
And it's just a little odd
That your hostess cannot smell the rot.

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