Building of Bone
And I am so unbelievably angry because my body is a building of muscle and bone, Skin stretched across skeleton frames Delicate materials prone to breaking, But despite the monster beneath my fingertips Despite the thing inside of me pulsing and pounding Despite the gnashing and gnarling of teeth and claws, The grinding of teeth on my ribcage, My delicate skyscraper remains the same. It does not sway when my monster rages and roars, It simply stands there, unshaken, continuing to cut it's silloheoute into the sky. And I am so unbelievably angry because I wish my building of muscle and bone, With it's so very soft skin stretched across my skeleton frame, Would bend and break. Groan as it collapsed in a pile of ruble and dust. That would scatter with a strong gust of wind. I want to blow blow blow away. Ride the wind that used to push at my glass panes, Then get lost. and disappear. Because my anger derives from the fact that I no longer want