I’m Inviting My Skeletons Out Of The Closet


Every day the sun rises just a little bit earlier
And sets just a little bit later,
And even though it’s probably only an extra minute of sunshine,
It feels like the weather is working overtime
To melt all of the ice off of my cold shoulder.

So that pretty soon the glacier I’ve been hauling around all winter
Will slip down my back,
And crash to the floor.
Leaving behind peaks and valleys,
The shape of a body,
That has finally learned how to let things slide.

I’ll use my new hands to sweep up
All of the hurt that I’ve thrown around like confetti,
Use my nails to dig out all of the harsh words
That have gotten stuck between my floorboards.

Put everything together
In a jar with my anger,
Placed high on a shelf that I wont be able to reach –
So that the next time someone says, ‘I’m sorry’,
I’ll be able to say back,
‘You know what, it’s okay.’

I’ll invite my skeletons to come out
For the first time in years,
Sit them down at my table,
Maybe offer them a sandwich –
Something to put the meat back on their bones.

While they’re eating I can explain
How I never meant to keep them so long,
But sometimes these things happen,
And they’re free to go now
If they want.

When they’re finished I’ll give them back their old skin
And feel just a little bit jealous
(The price we pay for letting go)
That soon they’ll have a new home
In someone else’s closet,
Tucked in the back behind a broom and an old winter jacket.