There was a skeleton in my closet; bright green, envious as though he had skin and nerves. I never forgave him for taking up all that space. I was enlightened by the term.
Dead. A skeleton is what you get after a corpse decays enough that all of the soft tissue is gone. Pirates. The skeleton is closely connected to pirate lore. For example the jolly roger is a skull and crossbones (or crossswords). If my father hadn’t been cremated he’d be a skeleton by now.
the framework of the human body. scary. i don’t know what to write about skeletons, really. :| but skeletons amuse and scare me at the same time. writing is missable. so are skeletons of the past.
The death of a man is not counted by his going but by where he goes & when he gets there. In the end we will all meet your skeleton in the end. Every bone is a different memory of the dead.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, rubbing her arms as if she were trying to comfort herself. “Why are you so worried?”
She wouldn’t tell me, but I knew of the skeletons in her closet. Well, I didn’t know their origins, but I knew they were there.
“You can tell me anything, you know. You don’t have to hide from me.”
For the first time ever, she got defensive. “Please, you know more than anyone that isn’t true.”
You hated the way I hid some things. You thought I didn’t trust you, but I just didn’t want you to know. I like having some secrets kept to myself. Your bones breathed the words you held in your chest as though you thought your skeleton would crumble into dust if you didn’t release them, but maybe it’s there to cage some things, to hold them in so they can’t hurt anybody else.
Skeleton keys are very useful things. One can enter a house or business using such an item. I prefer to use skeleton keys to get into peoples hearts; smiling, joking…all these things and more are the skeleton keys I like to use.
Skeletons are everyone’s closet. But some people have bigger skeletons than others. For example, what about a criminal who’s managed to hide his crime for many years? Does the skeleton start taking on different forms?
He was cold as a stone. He was just a skeleton. With all his flesh, with all his skin, with all his hair. He still had his voice and his thoughts and his love. But he was cold as a stone. He saw into my eyes as warm as he always did, but he didn’t touch me like before. He would whisper all his lovely words and I would listen in wonder, but they didn’t touch me like before. It wasn’t him who has a stone, I’m now a skeleton. And I’m gone, and I’m cold, and I love him like never before. I want to tell him to not let my spirit go. “My eyes can’t see you and my ear won’t listen, but my soul is still with you. Forever. I love you.” But I can’t talk, and he must walk. It’s over hours and I must be buried beneath the ground, because they can see I haven’t leaved and I will always be around.
It’s hiding under your skin and coated in stringlets of muscles and the like. It’s your frame. People like to say it’s what builds you but alas that’s not what keeps you upright. Sure, the skeleton may keep you from collapsing into masses of gelatin but does that mean that it keeps you up and proper? No, you see, the heart does that, in collaboration (only occasionally, mind you) with the mind.
Opening the door, she saw it hanging. The skeleton. I mean, everyone has one in their closet and finally she faced hers. she no longer cared what others thought of her secret, she would sit them all down and speak her truth. It would make her feel right? wouldn’t it?
There’s a skeleton in my yard. I really don’t know how it got there. I realized it was there when I woke up this morning and looked out the window. At first, I thought it was something harmless, but at second glance, I realized what it really was. I suppose I should call the police, but I really don’t feel like I should.
The first time I saw a whole one was in a science book, and I cried. I think I was four or five, just starting to read. I didn’t like thinking about the person who was once that skeleton, it made me sad.
Skeleton makes me think of Halloween. Which I don’t really like. It also makes me think of something with bones. A lot of bones. It is kind of creaky, and it should probably be spooky and have some kind of spider webs on or around it. It makes me think of darkness, a dark place, something with dark. A skeleton is something that I often imagine in the ground, rather than above ground. It’s something that is dead.
Skeletons are can be creepy but they are super awesome! They remind me of Halloween. My family loves to set up our front yard as a grave yard and scare the little children coming for candy every year! I cant wait for Halloween to come again! :D
Her skeleton lay broken and fragmented and the bottom of the chamber. Her successor reluctantly stepped over the mangled body and sighed. ‘Is that what this job will bring me? An untimely death?’ Malorie kept to herself, and look where it got her. Broken, mangled, and in pieces at the bottom of an unkempt hole in the ground.
one day there was a human. he got sick of being a human so he asked a genie for one wish. Well that one wish was that he could be a skeleton, but the man realized this would kill him so he asked that the genie make him be an alive skeleton. The genie granted his wish but the man realized that being a skeleton was not all that it was cracked up to be. He couldn’t ever get a girlfriend. The end.
My body quivers at the thought. I am standing. Shaking. Everything stands in my way. How do I conquer this? How can I possibly succeed when I have no chance. I have no start. I am not good enough. I stand alone. My body quivers at the thought. Just me and my skeleton.
I used to say
– well, think
i didn’t say much –
that my skeleton
was the prettiest thing about me.
so delicate,
so long,
so thin.
I used to think
I’d be perfect if I could just get it to show.
Even in death you weren’t apart. Your skeletons overlap as I brush away the sand and time that covered you. Your jaws so irrefutably close to each other’s, as if whispering one last indulgence.
The bare skeleton had been striped on its flesh and left to hang over the two story building as the wind flowed through its hollow skull a leaf flew past and brushed just above where the eye socket was now barren with dirt.
Skeleton in the closet. A hidden destroyer, a villian. How many secrets can you hide in one place. How many times can you skip away from a conversation before it bites you in the ass. How long before you fess up about those friends in your closet. How long?
The skeleton sat across the board from me. Pondering his next move. He reached his hand to the queen and moved her forward taking my rook. I asked him then “what is the sense in playing any further?”. He reached his finger out to the horizon, always looking at me. He spoke with a smile, “You see only the field of roses, but the truth in the undertaking lies beneath the roses.”
she looked inside herself and saw nothing.
she was just a shell of a girl she used to know.
she was beautiful to others
and disgusting to herself
she shed her tears and created an ocean of sadness around her
she floated on the delicate surface
creating ripples
of a girl she used to know.
The skulls sat on her shelves, to keep the books from falling down. Phalanges and metatarsals were hanging from her doorway, in place of the beads her sister had hung before. She had a kneecap on her front door as a knocker. The ribs were tied together with chicken wire and hung out on her porch and in every window, to warn her of vengeful spirits. Each vertebrae had been dipped in candlewax, and lit as tealights all around her house. Each and every bone of those she had slaughtered were out on display, and used in her house. She ran her fingers along them with a smile. They were what really made the place home.
i went to the store thinking I need eggs found myself buying many other things I didn’t need. Like soap and chips why did these things get in my cart just came in for eggs! Some days are just like that you know you go for one thing get a bunch of stuff you don’t need and forget one thing you did come for the eggs. Crazy your mind can forget that one thing. Why!? But I really wanted them eggs for lunch too.
“I said, did you check the closet. I have heard that everyone has a skeleton in their closet, so if you are looking for one, perhaps that would be the place to look!”
skeletons in the closet are one of the biggest bad things about everything they hold people back and make people afraid; but on the other hand they help us learn – we know to move on from there or then mistakes and to progress.
skeletons are bones – structural and important
Skeletons. That was what she surrounded herself by. Skeletons, past figures of those that she had found, abducted, and conquered. Now, they all bent to her will and bowed at her feet. They were her unstoppable force that would someday soon help her come to rule the world. There was no stopping her. Not with the bones that surrounded her protecting her with their everlasting death.
There were some… skeletons in the closet, per say, and by skeletons I mean, of course, corpses of her former boyfriends. Honestly, it’s a wonder she hadn’t gotten caught until now. Half the football team must’ve been in there.
we are the skeletons of humans; we are the cold and bitter souls who see nothing worth seeing, who hear what we want, who take pleasure in only the tantalizing. we are stripped of what once made us incredible; the elixir of caring that once was abundant in our blood runs dry, and we grow brittle and sour and i think that if anything we should find at least one thing to cry about each day because there is so much everywhere and so little of it do we taste.
bones in the doorway bleached white and
with beads and lights and bottles hanging from her
and she’s looking at you but you can’t tell and
her eyes aren’t there until you realize she’s
not dead just
gone
There was a skeleton in my closet; bright green, envious as though he had skin and nerves. I never forgave him for taking up all that space. I was enlightened by the term.
Dead. A skeleton is what you get after a corpse decays enough that all of the soft tissue is gone. Pirates. The skeleton is closely connected to pirate lore. For example the jolly roger is a skull and crossbones (or crossswords). If my father hadn’t been cremated he’d be a skeleton by now.
the framework of the human body. scary. i don’t know what to write about skeletons, really. :| but skeletons amuse and scare me at the same time. writing is missable. so are skeletons of the past.
The death of a man is not counted by his going but by where he goes & when he gets there. In the end we will all meet your skeleton in the end. Every bone is a different memory of the dead.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, rubbing her arms as if she were trying to comfort herself. “Why are you so worried?”
She wouldn’t tell me, but I knew of the skeletons in her closet. Well, I didn’t know their origins, but I knew they were there.
“You can tell me anything, you know. You don’t have to hide from me.”
For the first time ever, she got defensive. “Please, you know more than anyone that isn’t true.”
It lies there, waiting, forever waiting. For what, no one knows. From what, everyone does.
Well, she does. It’s what she does. Inspecting bones; skeletons. Dissecting someone’s life in- in-
They live, they die and then she finds out why.
You hated the way I hid some things. You thought I didn’t trust you, but I just didn’t want you to know. I like having some secrets kept to myself. Your bones breathed the words you held in your chest as though you thought your skeleton would crumble into dust if you didn’t release them, but maybe it’s there to cage some things, to hold them in so they can’t hurt anybody else.
Skeleton keys are very useful things. One can enter a house or business using such an item. I prefer to use skeleton keys to get into peoples hearts; smiling, joking…all these things and more are the skeleton keys I like to use.
the palm is dry and wimpy,
grinding teeth paralyzed,
it seemed so sudden but happened,
a burnt life gone,
too afraid.
Skeletons are everyone’s closet. But some people have bigger skeletons than others. For example, what about a criminal who’s managed to hide his crime for many years? Does the skeleton start taking on different forms?
He was cold as a stone. He was just a skeleton. With all his flesh, with all his skin, with all his hair. He still had his voice and his thoughts and his love. But he was cold as a stone. He saw into my eyes as warm as he always did, but he didn’t touch me like before. He would whisper all his lovely words and I would listen in wonder, but they didn’t touch me like before. It wasn’t him who has a stone, I’m now a skeleton. And I’m gone, and I’m cold, and I love him like never before. I want to tell him to not let my spirit go. “My eyes can’t see you and my ear won’t listen, but my soul is still with you. Forever. I love you.” But I can’t talk, and he must walk. It’s over hours and I must be buried beneath the ground, because they can see I haven’t leaved and I will always be around.
It’s hiding under your skin and coated in stringlets of muscles and the like. It’s your frame. People like to say it’s what builds you but alas that’s not what keeps you upright. Sure, the skeleton may keep you from collapsing into masses of gelatin but does that mean that it keeps you up and proper? No, you see, the heart does that, in collaboration (only occasionally, mind you) with the mind.
like death and stufff
Opening the door, she saw it hanging. The skeleton. I mean, everyone has one in their closet and finally she faced hers. she no longer cared what others thought of her secret, she would sit them all down and speak her truth. It would make her feel right? wouldn’t it?
There’s a skeleton in my yard. I really don’t know how it got there. I realized it was there when I woke up this morning and looked out the window. At first, I thought it was something harmless, but at second glance, I realized what it really was. I suppose I should call the police, but I really don’t feel like I should.
The bones shining and white. Cleaned after the meal of human flesh. Yum yum.
The first time I saw a whole one was in a science book, and I cried. I think I was four or five, just starting to read. I didn’t like thinking about the person who was once that skeleton, it made me sad.
Skeleton makes me think of Halloween. Which I don’t really like. It also makes me think of something with bones. A lot of bones. It is kind of creaky, and it should probably be spooky and have some kind of spider webs on or around it. It makes me think of darkness, a dark place, something with dark. A skeleton is something that I often imagine in the ground, rather than above ground. It’s something that is dead.
Skeletons are can be creepy but they are super awesome! They remind me of Halloween. My family loves to set up our front yard as a grave yard and scare the little children coming for candy every year! I cant wait for Halloween to come again! :D
Her skeleton lay broken and fragmented and the bottom of the chamber. Her successor reluctantly stepped over the mangled body and sighed. ‘Is that what this job will bring me? An untimely death?’ Malorie kept to herself, and look where it got her. Broken, mangled, and in pieces at the bottom of an unkempt hole in the ground.
one day there was a human. he got sick of being a human so he asked a genie for one wish. Well that one wish was that he could be a skeleton, but the man realized this would kill him so he asked that the genie make him be an alive skeleton. The genie granted his wish but the man realized that being a skeleton was not all that it was cracked up to be. He couldn’t ever get a girlfriend. The end.
My body quivers at the thought. I am standing. Shaking. Everything stands in my way. How do I conquer this? How can I possibly succeed when I have no chance. I have no start. I am not good enough. I stand alone. My body quivers at the thought. Just me and my skeleton.
I used to say
– well, think
i didn’t say much –
that my skeleton
was the prettiest thing about me.
so delicate,
so long,
so thin.
I used to think
I’d be perfect if I could just get it to show.
Even in death you weren’t apart. Your skeletons overlap as I brush away the sand and time that covered you. Your jaws so irrefutably close to each other’s, as if whispering one last indulgence.
i wasn’t totally unprepared
i reached into my pocket
unwrapped the handkerchief
and carefully inserted the skeleton key
into that final keyhole
i felt even the skin of your skeleton scrapping against the paper texture of my cheek. your rough touch, so delicate, so cold and distant.
The bare skeleton had been striped on its flesh and left to hang over the two story building as the wind flowed through its hollow skull a leaf flew past and brushed just above where the eye socket was now barren with dirt.
Skeleton in the closet. A hidden destroyer, a villian. How many secrets can you hide in one place. How many times can you skip away from a conversation before it bites you in the ass. How long before you fess up about those friends in your closet. How long?
The skeleton jumps out of the closet and attacks me. But I fight it back with my sword and slay it. With my blood pumping
The skeleton sat across the board from me. Pondering his next move. He reached his hand to the queen and moved her forward taking my rook. I asked him then “what is the sense in playing any further?”. He reached his finger out to the horizon, always looking at me. He spoke with a smile, “You see only the field of roses, but the truth in the undertaking lies beneath the roses.”
she looked inside herself and saw nothing.
she was just a shell of a girl she used to know.
she was beautiful to others
and disgusting to herself
she shed her tears and created an ocean of sadness around her
she floated on the delicate surface
creating ripples
of a girl she used to know.
The skulls sat on her shelves, to keep the books from falling down. Phalanges and metatarsals were hanging from her doorway, in place of the beads her sister had hung before. She had a kneecap on her front door as a knocker. The ribs were tied together with chicken wire and hung out on her porch and in every window, to warn her of vengeful spirits. Each vertebrae had been dipped in candlewax, and lit as tealights all around her house. Each and every bone of those she had slaughtered were out on display, and used in her house. She ran her fingers along them with a smile. They were what really made the place home.
i went to the store thinking I need eggs found myself buying many other things I didn’t need. Like soap and chips why did these things get in my cart just came in for eggs! Some days are just like that you know you go for one thing get a bunch of stuff you don’t need and forget one thing you did come for the eggs. Crazy your mind can forget that one thing. Why!? But I really wanted them eggs for lunch too.
“Did you check the closet?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, did you check the closet. I have heard that everyone has a skeleton in their closet, so if you are looking for one, perhaps that would be the place to look!”
skeletons in the closet are one of the biggest bad things about everything they hold people back and make people afraid; but on the other hand they help us learn – we know to move on from there or then mistakes and to progress.
skeletons are bones – structural and important
Skeletons. That was what she surrounded herself by. Skeletons, past figures of those that she had found, abducted, and conquered. Now, they all bent to her will and bowed at her feet. They were her unstoppable force that would someday soon help her come to rule the world. There was no stopping her. Not with the bones that surrounded her protecting her with their everlasting death.
There were some… skeletons in the closet, per say, and by skeletons I mean, of course, corpses of her former boyfriends. Honestly, it’s a wonder she hadn’t gotten caught until now. Half the football team must’ve been in there.
we are the skeletons of humans; we are the cold and bitter souls who see nothing worth seeing, who hear what we want, who take pleasure in only the tantalizing. we are stripped of what once made us incredible; the elixir of caring that once was abundant in our blood runs dry, and we grow brittle and sour and i think that if anything we should find at least one thing to cry about each day because there is so much everywhere and so little of it do we taste.
skeletons are our frame. they are our outline, with out it we can take no shape. maybe we would cease to be a solid object, are they what makes us?
bones in the doorway bleached white and
with beads and lights and bottles hanging from her
and she’s looking at you but you can’t tell and
her eyes aren’t there until you realize she’s
not dead just
gone