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The Skeleton

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A skeleton in the closet
A skeleton on the floor
A real life skeleton dragged herself through the door
Cold to the touch with a dead heart
Flesh pale as a full moon, flushed from the start

Languid eyes and drooping skin
Sharp around the edges, rib cage caving in
Exposed to the world, let out of the tomb
This skeleton is alive, for that is true

Knobby knees, hair in tufts
Emotionally broken, the body has had enough
Fragile bones like porcelain, easy to break
No part is replaceable, not even with a fake

This skeleton sees herself full of life
Drags herself out of bed and crashes back in it each night
The whole world is scared and does not want to believe
That something so dead is still alive and breathing

The mind has been distorted and altered
Thoughts of what’s real and what’s not, not able to be fostered
This skeleton is not careful though it’s fragile
It still continues with what it thinks it’s normal, but not quick nor agile

This skeleton locked herself away for months
Emerging finally after she got rid of those lumps
Forever changed, not able to be completely restored
Can life be given back to her once more?




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