Do you ever think about your bones?

The way the support everything we do.

They break and they age and they grow.

Bones hold every story you've ever told.

From the time you broke your toe dancing to ice ice baby

to the time you wrote a new chapter.

Bones are everything we are

and everything we ever will be

Our bones are what's left behind

after we move on to the next life

Our bones will tell our lives stories.

The carpal tunnel from writing, painting and playing an instrument

these are all left behind

to tell the archaeologists we

were here

and we tried to show the world

we cared

about its

Bones

I promised my heart it would never fall for society
but I find myself loving its stupidity

Sometimes I dream
When they tell me I can be anything I want to be
but something's you just can't be
like an apple or a tree
or someone else
someone else completly

At fourteen
I'm too young to drive
too old to go to tinker-town and
too young to be taken seriously
but I'm still free
I mean as free as you can be

Math, English and social studies
and a place I'm going to be
for the next four years
remind me that I'm
14

Memory it's a strange thing
It feels like It's been
forever
but yet just like
yesterday

The desks tell stories
of a boy written in lies
and a girl with nothing to write

Somethings just don't change
She flowers in rudeness and dies in love
Nothing has changed just the people and
The Game.

I know I'll miss it someday but for now I'll wish it.
All away.