skeleton girl

good morning world
she says as she rises
from a blanket made of snow 
and wipes her tired eyes on a tissue made of frost 

snowflakes fall
frozen tears of the stars
sad at having to leave her side 

she catches them in her leaf mittened hands
and holds them close until their gone 
her face pale and wan 
a skeleton girl 

the sun shines bright
across this new cold world
making all the tiny flakes
piled high, upon themselves 
sparkle with a newfound light 
what a sight to behold 
for one pale and wan 
skeleton girl 

the world she sees 
from her still half open eyes 
enrages something deep inside 
things are broken now 
plastics floating 
gasses staying 

her anger bubbles forward 
her rage is unrivaled 
but her screams of pain and despair go unnoticed
poor, wan faced 
skeleton girl 

she stays unnoticed,
stays unheard
by this cruel truth suppressing world
though she pushes onward 
through the sand and through the snow 
she's determined
that pale, wan
 skeleton girl

she will be heard
she tells herself as she goes
but the when she asks to speak 
they do not want to see
that tired skeleton girl

her fire dips 
the burn now just a warmth 
it's up to her now 
weather she stamps it out 
or screams it loud 
for the world to hear 

but for now she's tired
beaten down
she needs a rest 
and she needs it now 
so she lays herself 
in her shallow grave 
closes her eyes and gives way 
to the feeling of sleep
as rose bushes grow up around her
and trees look healthy and clean 
as her bones turn to dust 
faster runs the stream 
swifter bounds the rabbit 
quicker flies the dove 
across the pale blue sky untarnished from human touch 
no more is the pale, wan 
skeleton girl 

but the message she left for us
here in this world 
is one you night have already heard
maybe from an angry mum
tired of stepping on toys all the time
but this message comes from the mum of us all 
the world itself 
yes the pale wan skeleton girl
is what we've done to our world
and she has some advice
so unlike those who pushed her away 
hear her out and maybe 
act on what you hear today: 

"if it's your mess, you clean it up." 
there, it's said.






 

Inkpaw

VT

17 years old

More by Inkpaw

  • The Boxes In The Corner

    Looming over your shoulders

    Each stack higher than its former

    Every thought and every scrap

    Of an idea too scared to ponder

     

    Every moment that hurt

    Each minute that lingered longer

  • Inadequacy


    How do I push the words out
    From behind my taffy tongue 
    Thick with salty tears 
    And full of grubby thumb 


    I’m a child 
    Pretending that I’m numb 
    To escape the overwhelming feelings 

  • Paper Frogs

    Why

    When feet fall soft but quick 

    Does the hallway extend

    And the hot breath of whoever’s behind me feel hotter 

    Why do I stay pressed to the wall 

    Like a stubborn gruby sticker