Aching Bones

My bones said to try.
They told me to man-up and get over it.
My bones transitioned from cartilage, to marrow, to melted wax, to steel.

My bones screamed to try harder.
Giving up is for muscles and skin, bones are eternal. Steel is everlasting.
What's to cry about?
We're steel and immortal, we're selfish and arrogant.
What's to be worried about?

I have a few ideas.

Arthritis. Osteoporosis. Leukemia.
Things that can kill your bones and turn them into mush.
Turn your steel into rust.
I'm worried now.
Mush is unstable. Mush can cry.

But can't I be steel and mush at the same time?
My bones tell me to try while my mush says it's fine to cry.
Balance is irrelevant.
It all depends which one makes me more giddy.
What makes my mush talk and my bones walk.

You turn me into steel. You make me melt.
Do what you want with this sticky metal. I'm yours to create.

My bones say don't touch me. My mush says I'm all yours.
That I love you and that your all I think about and that your the reason why I walk.
My bones say to stop it.

I listen to my bones because I need them to walk.
But it's my mush that makes me want to in the first place.



Happy Thursday.