Can I be scared of the creaking floors,

when the wood screams every night?

Can I be scared of rattling branches 

When the trees  always clap for the wind?

Can I be scared of fluorescent blue floating above my bed,

When it has never felt my skin ?

Or should I find familiarity in the groans of the house I abide in.

Comfort in voices that sing me to sleep in a haunting harmony?

Peace in the faces I can't quite make out, but recognize none the less?