Skeleton

by hangonz92

My skeleton holds me up,

but only just, my

bones rattling, growing weak.

My muscles have shriveled,

my skin hangs limp,

and underneath it all,

space.

Empty, hollow, vacant,

space.

Stolen by a world which

has unraveled itself.

An unseen hand, pulling

gently, unweaving

each strand until the

last of the thread

comes tumbling down,

disintegrating on to the

hard ground,

dust to be blown

away and forgotten,

left to rot in the

corner, scattered,

dropped off in basements,

hotel rooms, late night

cinemas, and garbage cans.

On streets and down

alleys, pieces lost forever in

a stinking, sweaty vomit-pile.

I sift though the

sludge,

gagging,

wailing, singing poetry,

with my hands full

of regurgitated peas.

But I am left empty

and my sunken

skeleton slinks back

to its deadened

sleep.

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