Head in my hands, fingers tangled in my hair, chest heaving, ribs slowly protruding out of the layer of skin you never took the time to care about.
Not even my own skeleton felt the need to hold me together, just another thing we had in common I suppose.
Bones of ivory separated itself from the skin that had never really felt like home.
Walking away, holding the hands of a boy who couldn't even take the time to notice the cracks he had left across my sternum.
I am just a bundle of skin, beautiful only when your bedside lamp is shining across my ribs and fingers digging into my shoulder.
A broken skeleton, and a boy who never glued me back together.