“Bones”
The nickname my mother called me
As I sat on her lap
The sharpness of my bones
Impaling the warmth of her skin
Bones
The adult human has 206
It feels as if mine are trying to escape me
All of which one can see
Under a thin layer of damaged skin
Bones
I search for them under the muscles
That I tone
Through making myself smaller
Bones
The ones that held me together
Experiencing my life with me
Moving me through motions
Without feeling what I have felt
And continue to feel
Bones
Shattered. Scarred. Broken.
Healing
Bones
The frame on which I exist
Helping me put the pieces together
The foundation on which I can grow
My bones know me
Moving me to where I need to be
To thrive
To know what it feels like to live
Mom, call me bones one more time
Remind me where I’m growing from
Dear bones,
One day, I’ll know exactly what you need