Packed under the cold, silent earth.
And as we sit dead,
our skin deteriorates, our spirit lifts up to the sky, but our bones stay.
Strong, they remain.
Being the most loyal part of us.
The last evidence that I was a person and that I had a name.
An impact on those I met.
To the world.
Contributing to the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide.
People are afraid of bones because they can't see a person's heart.
When they see skeletons they are afraid because the empty dark crevices used to hold someone's eyes;
someone's life.
Yet bones are the ones who have been with us our whole lives.
Since the day we were born.
In my eyes, they are the ones who know us the best.
They are old and wise
They didn't have to learn how to think or how to love.
Yes they are silent, but they are always there. As we live, our bones may creak ever so slightly to remind us that they are there, as our supporters and our friends.
They give us strength.
They helped me stand even when my head and my heart said, 'we can't'.
And although my bones have broken, they've always mended themselves because they know I can't live without them.
So doesn't it make sense for our bones to stay as the rest of us leave this world of all we've known, as a remnant of who we were?
"People are afraid of bones because they can't see a person's heart." Really strong line #stolen
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