Bone

[TW: Sexual Assault and Body Horror]

The Tracks stopped feeling cold

At dusk that night

1 hour later the sun froze my skin

Between the cracks of the wood are my fingers, smashed

10 hours later another train passed

The service was planned on a sticky note

Two people shoved in the casket body parts intertwined

Fit into the box like pieces from two different puzzles

My face facing him as I lie like I do in my bed

Stiff on my back, my lips planted on his head

His toes tangled in my hair

There’s a bone in my thigh

Still breathing, blowing

On it as it sticks out of my flesh

My chest has been dusted under a pink mesh

Bra, under it my breath can only expand

To fill the top quarter of my lungs

Pirsing my sternum until it touches my spine

Bones dig into the loose skin on my chest

Stooping under my lungs, weighing on my breath

I can’t tell if I have opened my eyes

Not from how I am laying

I can't see his hands, either of the three, cut and callous

From here I can only see one part of him

And all I can feel is his limb

Liquid leaks from the corner of my mouth and seeps into my hair

It’s grains like the shards of Advils I crushed

Into a glass of bitter vodka mixed with sweet and

Creamy, churned buttermilk and Baileys

A ting of metal around the lop of his jeans, my lip caught between two keys

The thumps of God's footsteps above

As I lay still under the bones

And the heat of the dirt warms the wood

In 1 minute there was no air between his body and mine

Completing the last piece in this funeral’s design

Kaiden (He/They) is a creative writer at OCAD who loves all things horror. Kaiden writes mainly poetry and short stories rooted in the horror genre, experimenting with various forms and topics in order to explore personal identity and deal with all of the hurt in the world today.