Answer:
Plant whose name sounds like a dish full of dairy spread.
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
When liquid splashes me, none seeps through. When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew. When I am hit, color I change. And color, I come in quite a range. What I cover is very complex, and I am very easy to flex.
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
Who lives in a house with one bedroom, 50 hallways, and ghosts lurking everywhere?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.