I keep saying it but no one is listening.
Myself included.
The faint tremor in my heart that reminds me of stress.
The overwhelming sense that my eyes are holding too much water so I swallow.
The ache so far down in my gut that I feel like all of me will swim in the toilet.
I put so many sets of bones in the ground that I literally have lost count.
I think of them when I feel this way, maybe to relate the overplayed feeling to another. I don’t ask that many questions about it.
But they were just bones. Bones attached with muscles under delicate skin. Thoughts and kisses and eyes holding too much happiness that it made them swallow. That’s all they were.
Destined to be something lost in time. Destined to have made nothing of themselves and made no significant impact to the whole of the world and destined to be Gods in my mind.
They were bones but they were perfect. Absolutely.
The throb in the middle of my throat that tells me I’m suppressing everything.
I am a set of bones but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be holy.
I wake up in the middle of the night and I wonder.
I wonder.