Bone Show
Alabaster, and ivory white, gilded by flesh/and blood. Useless folks in ‘er meat machines. Who shall run the show? Subjugated to the Skeletal system, all the hard edges and unpalatable articulations. But who’s running the bone show now? 
That’s what I wanna know? Who runs the bone show now?
Animus. And my day begins. Waking from/to strange dreams, I can no longer tell. The phones buzzing at my head and it’s Rose, he wants me to help him out. A box of rigs(like a box of bones). I don’t answer his calls. Best let sweet Rose figure it out alone. I feel this one deep deep down. 
I hang myself in the shadow of the doorway just for a little while. Before I put this system, this machine into gear. To perdition. Where we lead we will follow, the ghost. I wear her like a mask. on the inside. She sees what I see, she hides what I am. 
Leering and peering all the while. Making me call the shots. Go away ghost. Let the shadows do the talking. We need you but for not.
My skull cracks open but the ghost stays put. for a minute. We talk, we think and reason, then eventually part ways. I’ll see you in hell ghost. I’ll bring the bones…
And my mask, it falls. 
Leftover to nothing. And nothing to leave. I pick up where I left off, and switch it back on. Good ol Rose, he keeps my messages full while Time withers fast. cartilage crushes, sinew snaps, bones break down. And Down. 
And like that my woe begotten worries, be gone. 
No more bones. And the days all done, graveyard black and tombstone calm. Burying the last of the newest to come, we drop the Rose and the show goes on in shadows.
Luke Havergal 


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