Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Skeleton boy—
You were an architectural masterpiece, a city caught aflame, Atlantis purged with fire—
you were destined to drown, but burned instead,
cinders are not becoming of you.
Skeleton boy—your ghost left so long ago.
Turning your ribs into wind chimes will not summon back
all that you used to be.
Skeleton boy, remember that your crooked teeth are
bones too.
Bones that break, bones that splinter, like the words you uttered before you—
Your ribcage used to house a heart. I don’t think either of us realized
love had an expiry date.
Skeleton boy, your jaw works on
hinges,
it is a door that promised so much, but you spent everything you had in you and
regurgitated your insides
(they splattered out in perfect sonnets.)
Skeleton boy, maybe we should launch you into space, so
your animated bones can fall apart in the absence of
(your inner) gravity is the only thing holding you together,
muscles and tendons wilted away like
daisies and false hopes.
Skeleton boy, you are nothing without us but
we are nothing without you.
Sometimes I wish you were made of steel and diamond and not foolish, breakable bone—
You were the architect of my hazy, fog covered landscape, and
skeleton boy, I can only write imperfect poems
for you.
Iambic pentameter drunk on (lack of) existence,
no one remembers me anymore.
Skeleton boy,
don’t turn yourself into music for me.
(your femurs and phalanges are not xylophones—careful, careful!
they are fragile.)
Besides,
I can already hear you just fine.
Skeleton boy—you are all that is left.
I see how your bones quiver and rattle;
don’t be scared.
One day, you will turn to dust, but you will
not rattle then—you will float.
Skeleton boy:
you were my home.
you kept searching
for your ghost but
I’ve been here
all along.
I'll Wait by the Water
a retraction of august's horoscope
Donnie's Decision
So yeah. This can be interpreted however you wish. A poem about a lover, a poem about a skeleton, a poem about both--you decide! Whatever interpretation you choose, I hope you like it. It's definitely one of my favorites.
(c) me
Now, as a ghost, I shall tell you that.... There are no words to say how incredibly talented you are, only proof time after time you upload something written. I am amazed at your choice of words, how everything falls into place smoothly.
I understand imperfect-parachute losing their shit at that line, but I lost mine in a few places
Here:
Your ribcage used to house a heart. I don’t think either of us realized
love had an expiry date.
Skeleton boy, your jaw works on
hinges,
it is a door that promised so much, but you spent everything you had in you and
regurgitated your insides—
(they splattered out in perfect sonnets.)
gah. Where do I even begin??? I think your comparison of a jaw to a door with possibilities on the other side is just hauntingly beautiful.
And here:
You were the architect of my hazy, fog covered landscape, and
skeleton boy, I can only write imperfect poems
for you.
To me, this line skews the narration towards being about a lost lover. After loosing someone, things seem fogy. But I LOVE LOVE LOVE the "I can only write imperfect poems for you." because that's just all kinds of true. The poet may always see those poems as imperfect but to the reader, they can be absolutely flawless.
You are flipping flapjacks amazing Keep up the amazing work, looking forward to reading more this summer!
BTW I'M FRICKIN' GRADUATING IN A MONTH