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.
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.
afterwords, i didn't tell anybody. instead, i made excuses. “i remember.” “i wasn't drunk.” “i wanted to.” i spent six long months suffering, 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. alone, burying everything that i didn't want to think about, just to have all that hard work ripped apart was heartbreaking. no, having someone i loved and trusted do something so awful, so wrong, that was heartbreaking. but digging it all back up? that was torture.
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