My bag of bones

Haven’t slept in a couple days. Flashes of you, cry as they may; right into a sky of blue. Bag of bones is all you are. I’m not home, at the same time, you are so far. That’s the way I like it to be. You left me with this bag of bones, that nobody else can see. Just me. And I’m still not home. I hold onto my heart but they rip it apart. They don’t know what you’re about. They don’t know you are just a bag of bones. Nothing more. I could be home, a place I adore. Without my ugly bag of bones.

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