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Tammy M Darby  Apr 2018
Tammy M Darby Apr 2018
I display my collection of skeletons openly on my wrist
Only employing their usage if someone carelessly insists
They jingle, jangle, clack
My bleached bracelet of many bones
Clattering and bumping into each other
Waiting for a black corner to call home

I wear my assemblage of dancing skeletons on my wrist
Dangerous they are
Besotted with madness  
Sometimes I simply cannot resist

Taking one, two or perhaps three and giving them a toss
Calling secrets from their crafted tombs
Time, deeds and scars
Glittering jewels of a humans emotional wall

So if you see me with bones around my wrist
Cease your scheming despot take heed and desist
Lest I take another one of these skeletons and give it a toss
And watch your dreams descend into that they call
The long walk.

@ copyright Tammy M. Darby April 11, 2018.
Tatiana 16h
I don't know the words that makes this madness go away.
The words I've spoken are burying my own grave
and I don't know why there are no coffins below.
Where did all the skeletons go?

I think i'll have to get a new wardrobe.
I think I know where all the skeletons go.

I want to try on some different clothes,
but all my outfits seem to be made up of bones.
I don't understand why I don't like my own home.
I think I know where all the skeletons roam.

I think i'll have to hide in my wardrobe.
I think I know where all the skeletons roam.

This is from a song I wrote with a few edits.
Callie Richter Oct 2018
imagine this.
you experience something
with another person
that typically involves
a great deal of
love and commitment.
but, you didnt want to.
this person didn't love you
nor were they commited to you.
this moment
is usually special
and meaningful.
but, you can't even tell me
if it was because
you dont know.
you dont remember.

welcome to my life.
i was the mere age
of fifteen.
i thought i loved him.

i didn't tell anybody.
i made excuses.
“i remember.”
“i wasn't drunk.”
“i wanted to.”
i spent six long months
burying everything,
before i finally decided
it was time to tell my mom.

last month
my mom told me
i had a doctors appointment.
you see,
i have been consistently
losing weight and
i hadn't been sleeping at night.
when my doctor asked if
my mom could come in too,
i instantly knew something was wrong.
my mom looked into my eyes
and told me i needed to be honest.
i had no idea
what she was talking about.
“she was *****,”
my mom blurted.

you see,
after spending
six. *******. months.
burying everything
that i didn't want to think about,
just to have all that hard work
ripped apart
was heartbreaking.
having someone i
loved and trusted
do something so awful,
so wrong,
that was heartbreaking.
but digging it all back up?
that was torture.
KT Sep 2018
I’ll never forget the skyline that night
The way the pinks and purples bled across the horizon
Or the shadowy crisscrosses of the Girard Point bridge in the distance
5 lanes and Your Song on repeat
The emptiness I felt was like nothing I’d ever experienced before
With the black lace still damp against my body and the smell of saliva still potent on my hand
I told myself that with my contacts in I could pretend to be watching someone else from above
I could make believe that it was a different girl with her back arched as a boy she barely knew made a home inside her
All I thought of the whole time was you
With his mouth all over me I imagined your tongue on my *******
I cried silent tears for 63 miles that night
And then scrubbed my skin raw
Called your best friend and accepted her judgement as my penance
****** in all the hurt when she told me what I already knew-that you would never look at me in the same way again
I hope you never have to wrap your arms around yourself so you don’t fall apart
I hope you’re never so lonely that you give away the thing that means the most to you for an hour of closeness
My darling, just because someone’s been inside of you doesn’t mean they’ll make sure you got home okay
Just because you’ve had someone else in your mouth doesn’t mean you’ll want the man you really desire any less
*** is not a band-aid
I learned that lesson the hard way that night in an unfamiliar dorm room off of I-95
Pinks and purples that matched the fingerprints on my arms playing against the buildings in the distance
A million lives in that skyline
I wondered if anyone else had ever felt this lonely before
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