lust for my bones, love my heart.

My bones. 

My bones crave to move. They want to walk the different textures of this earth, swim in the water, run in the sand, climb the mountains, walk the streets of old towns. 

My bones what to be broken so that they can understand what it's like to heal. They want to know what its like to be new again, to be stronger.

My bones want me to drink milk but they don't understand how much I hate milk. 

My bones Hold me up, the are the frame of me. The only thing that will remain when I'm gone. They want to have a life before we leave each other. 

My heart. 

My heart is mad at me. I know its mad at me because it is pounding on my skin from inside of me. 

Usually I only know my heart is there when I am laying quietly in my bed with my head on my pillow, I can hear the soft thumping of it. "I just want you to know I'm still here, I still work." or when you say the words, "I can hear your heart beat." 

It's Mad because I don't know how to talk when I'm upset. It doesn't like holding all of that emotion for me. It gets tired from that.