I've always hated my bony fingers
a skeleton
I've been meaning to ask you
if that's why you used to shiver when you held me.
it must've been awful holding something so lifeless
knowing I was little more
than bones.

I don't feel the shivering anymore
and when you
hold me, you
hold me like I'm the one who
needs to be steadied

and I think that's what happens when someone dies.

you will finally grasp that I'm gone
that the skin and bones you used to hold
which distressed your heart
and whittled at your brain like a knife
with aches and tears that
begged for your help
left
for good.

you do all you can to fix this
all in your power to bring me back.
the knife I have made will cut inside and out to
search for anything
anything you could've done to save me

and I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I have ruined you from the beginning
but all I ever wanted was to see you steady
standing alone
and I know you couldn't do that with
this skin and
these bones
laced between your bony fingers