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are Its Shepherds
(Long title, obnoxious 40 character limit.) |
I met you in my closet, lost, forgot, and stuffed away like skeletons tend to be. You looked up with plaster face and proved that you had nothing to hide under think, deceitful fat. No reason to lie about your bony build. You were the first I'd ever seen without even sheet-thin skin to wrap you in a stupid story. Being cloaked in flesh suddenly felt like being naked. I scrutinized safely from the doorway. I became an anatomist. I learned your insides and outs. I could name everything that you were-- femur, fibula, tibula, elbows and ribs and skulls-- and you watched without a care and I came and sat down beside you in the shadows. Permanent residence in a closet. We sat in the shade for weeks, months, never eating, anorexic of the grimy hormone-based shit that they served outside. Slowly letting all the fat drip off as we fed our bones instead of our mouths. Until you saw a girl like an apple juicy, coveted wrapped in a rust-red skin out on the furthest limb. You nudged me aside to stand up, bones creaking satanically, like claws inside the walls in a horror film, like a sound for which I was afraid to have an explanation. You left the closet to go vie for bite after bite. I watched from the doorway as you were knocked away from the tree by plump, greedy men and you took bites of them. Skeleton who became a cannibalistic glutton, I watched you get fat. I watched as you binged without a care until finally I stood up and left the shade and walked as far uphill as my bones could take me. I hate that you got skin but I'm glad you took mine. |