Rattling bones in my ears,
from bridges long since burned,
jaws open, but no words emerge,
deep dark holes, stare into my being.

Fleshless fingers reach out,
into my dreams in the night,
drawing me into prison bars of ribs,
where once lived a beating heart.

From closets, and from under beds,
and even from within the walls,
the never-ending scratching,
of them trying to get out.

Some were friends, other lovers,
all now excised from my life,
I have moved on, or so I think,
haunted by the bones of the past.