I disappoint all friends,
humans & trees & bumble bees.
I lose sight in my misery.
Contemplating death is not easy.
She intrigues me
with her illusioned lips, fulfilling dreams &
the promise of peace.
All I am is cold bones.
Yet she never convinces me.
Although I have been dead for at least 15 years,
she can not bury all of my bones.
These cracking bones,
are good for more than
storing & upholding flesh.
These aches prove I exist.
These snappings of my skeleton
clinking together are
promises that I am a daughter
to the planet,
that these bones &
this flesh are not empty &
meaningless.
A cracking bone
tells me I am human &
moving & walking towards the Earth.
Feeling my pain,
Feeling my worth as human,
as a part of the universe.
When my nerves sting,
I remember
to be human is
to be dreams & bones.
Without this skull & hands,
visions will die &
without imagination,
the flesh starves.