them bones

You stripped the soul from them bones
I may or may not have watched you
tear the flesh from the rib
and the heart from the child
but I buried them down
down
down
in the ground
and walked away hollow
and fleshy
and damaged but somehow
able
withstanding
enduring
a mask of survival
and my soul calls…

In the ground the bones stir
they vibrate at the sound
of the rain from the sky,
and the soul
my soul
poured over your life
now run out
run down
run dead
and it aches to return
to them bones
in the ground.

I can hear it…
wild like the wind
whipping through the hills
and screaming like a mad woman
ready to raise the dead
my dead
my soul
my madness
poured over them bones.

There is a scratching for the surface
a reaching for the moonlight sky
the whisper of raindrops
falling on the desert of my life…
a silent longing for what I knew
of all things magic and perfect
and pure and wild with…
life.

Them bones…stripped.
Burned.
Buried.
and now,
poured over
drowning in soul
my soul
Up, up and up
into my skin
into my life
now living again.

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