my bones and the soft things inside them

i want you to know

i’ve been pressing my skull to my bony knee and feeling bad for myself.

i wish you were here to watch me do it. maybe it would make you feel bad too.

i think of things that make me sad.

like the freckles on the back of your arm that i didn’t know were there until you rested your elbow on the center console of your friend’s car when he was driving us to your hometown.

i was in the backseat and i looked at the freckles for too long because i was thinking

“this is the kind of thing you don’t know you could like about someone until it’s already your favorite thing.”

when i remember things like that, i bend my knee to my chest and push the ridge of my brow into it until it kind of hurts. then i move the skin on the bridge of my nose around to feel the hard bit underneath,

and think, “yes, it’s all there.” silly girl brain inside a fragile bird body. it’s not much, but it’s home. and it keeps me from floating away.