And now, I guess I'm glad that I never felt
The way your ulna and radius would press
against the discs in my spine as your humerus
held me to you, the way I would lean my skull
on your clavicle and rest my phalanges on your
scapula and be able to feel the life inside of your ribs,
the way your costal cartilage was never mine to hold
and the way mine always was too bruised to touch,
because then I'd be certain that the cartilage between
your bones would turn them into nothing but ropes,
tying me down to you as they wrapped around my
neck and choked me in my own illusions.
And I'm done playing hangman.

Because then, I'd be nothing but another skeleton
in my closet full of dreams and hopes.
And darling,
I won't do that to myself again.

**Never again.