deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Nature is the Beast and We Are Its Shepherds
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.
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.
Published 12th Dec 2013
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