These Temporary Bones

i am the letters falling down my wrist,

they mark the pages of the word,

where the lines tell me of a spirit,

reminding me of all i've seen and all i've heard.

The lines dream to me, captivate, and i am free.

This ink pulls me from the depths of the pit,

and at last, now i can breathe.

i am the barefeet that tread and carry,

dripping with the paint of today.

Oh, how these toes give my spine strength.

These bones aline, but these bones will never stay.

Only when my soles touch this earth,

am i possibly able to know the length.

Life is vaper, but soul is mirth.

This poem is about:

Me

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