Bones

They’re getting weaker by the minute and I don’t know what to do. These things inside my body, these precious little jewels. Armored in my skin, I call these my bones. And they’re getting weaker by week, they are getting weaker as we speak. These are my bones and i haven’t said one peep. I don’t want to go to a doctor, I don’t want to tell an elder. I want my bed with comfort. As I lose myself in books and sips some lovely tea. Most important of all, I want your body beside me. Your tender arms with stronger bones than mine, hold my fragile body under silky covers. These are my bones, I haven’t said one peep. These are my bones and they will be until I forever fall asleep.