Standing on her doorstep,

an armed man with blood on his hands, 

he whispers he needs a place to stay-

he didn't do it, but the police are on their way.

She looks out, looking for neighbors,

when there are none, she pulls him in, 

he flashes a smile, then slices a knife,

he sees the red on white, staining her porcelain skin.

Her eyes dull, dying as she does,

floating above her are ghosts, she joins them,

he runs out the door, down the alley-

finds a dead end, the ghosts circle him.

"You sliced me open! Killed my child!"

(A first mom, never to be called Mommy)

"You took my sister, then stole my life!"

(A twin- who watched, tied, as her sister died)

"My innocence is gone, my blood spilt! I've been defiled!"

(A young teenage girl, she'll not die a virgin)

"You monster, you've even killed your own wife!"

(The woman with the skin like porcelain, stained red)

He's cornered with nowhere to go,

Police sirens sound, his reaction to run,

The ghosts whisper, reminding him of what he already knows,

He cannot run, he'll be cuffed at the setting of the sun.

Next day he's in a prison cell,

He looked around, listened and fell-

down onto his knees, hands on his ears, 

trying to block the voices out.