collecting my bones

Blossom and Bone

you threw
this day out
in front of me like ugly dice

what an unimaginable hand
this day has dealt
you
but I can’t know
which way
I don’t know which way
to care about you
I don’t know the way
to get to you
I don’t know where
inside this horror this space this distance or place
where in this horrifying day
you
have gone

there is a collection of bones
you carry around
a morbid bouquet
of roses long dead
petals and thorns and stems
long stems
long tear trails and stories
long stories and years cut short
cut
smoothly by the blade
of decision or whim
precision incision
to end them

they’re not flowers
not flowers you said
they rattle they rattle they rattle
not feelings
not that not that
too brittle too dry too unable to cry
they remind you
just here to remind
you
that you are not like them
not yet
not like them
not ended
not yet

if I quiet my beating
that beating
if I quiet my heart I can hear
that rattle that rattle that rattle
and follow the sound I will find you
in the boneyard of this horrible day
picking out new reminders
to add to that brittle bouquet

this boneyard
created by hands
on that blade
whose decisions
were made
whose decisions were made
about thoughts about choices of
which path to take and the steps
and the steps
and decisions
were made
to swing
that blade

cutting short
what might have been long
breaking down
what might have endured
putting out
what might have burned bright
to end
to end
to end
to ending it

and the hands that raised that blade
sometimes belonged to the bones
but many reminders you now collect
were decisions you wielded alone

know this
bone collector

as long as
I’m walking beside you
as long as
I’m smiling at you
as long as
my hand is in your hand
my bones are residing
with you

know
they are not for collecting
they are only to have and to hold
a warm tender living reminder
that you don’t
you just don’t have to go
you don’t have to go
to that boneyard
not yet
because you are not ended
not yet
not yet

you are
not like them
you are like me
I am not ended
I never will be

you are not like them
not cut short not bent down
not broken
not brittle not dry
you don’t rattle and
you can cry
you can open all the way up
you can dive all the way down
to plant a kiss on the floor of the ocean
and with only the breath in your lungs
can move clouds across the face of a mountain
and love with all the life in your heart
and dream about hope and believe in
anything
or in something
again

but I don’t want just to remind you
I just want you to never forget
if you need to remember
remember
or reach down and take hold
of my hand

because my bones won’t be piled with the others
they’ll never be rattling there
my bones won’t ever be ended
they’ll always forever be here
if you raise that blade upon me
if you choose that dead bouquet
if you wield that blade against memory
please gentle
gentle gentle as you swing
cause these bones will be
walking with me
these bones will be walking with me

come along with me
bone collector
put down that troublesome blade
come with me
memory gatherer
let all those dry bones
fall away

not yet will not follow you here

come collect me
into your arms
and I’ll remind you how to feel
life
come and gather me
gather me up
and I’ll remind you
how to feel
loved
and I’ll remind
you how to
love

3 Comments

  1. Sara Brooks
    Nov 5, 2011

    This is about…
    Them bones….
    The thigh bone connected to the knee bone….
    The neck bone connected to the back bone…
    As the old handclappin’ song goes…
    Lynnly~this is ASTOUNDING ….
    WORLD CLASS WORDIFICATION….
    I’m reaching into my basket of yarns,
    Trying to classify your verses~
    You weave from the sands of your imagination~
    To the skies of windswept colors…
    Crystals never seen before….
    HIGHLY VALUED….

  2. blagiddyblog
    Nov 5, 2011

    And I thank you for showing me how to let them words just come out without tying them down with shoulds and can’ts… and you, the English teacher!

  3. this dusty girl
    Jun 16, 2012

    Reblogged this on this dusty girl.