My bones stick out from my hips.
My ankles smack and crack against each other.
My knees are sharp jabs to the desk or table leg.
My pelvic bones are shaped so sharply
it teeters my balance on a bench.
My collar bone creates pools
deep enough to catch falling tears.
My wrists are fingers wide,
little knobs like pit bull spikes.
I am all bones.
My flesh is just that, flesh.
Something to be ripped of with tapered teeth,
chewed viciously and torn from my skeleton.
That’s all I am.
A white frame of what I once was and what used to be. Am I only to be loved, to be kissed, to be adored, as the flesh that they have all eaten away?
About me
I'm 17. I attend a boarding arts school in the middle of the woods in Michigan. I've got a misfits skull hanging in my dorm room I'm surrounded by music an writing and beauty in the way people see things.
