i found sanctuary in your hollowed bones

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i found sanctuary in your hollowed bones

you found a home in mine.



A collection of 206 poems, one for every bone in the body.

If anyone ever finds this, comments are welcome.


Axial Skeleton: 15/80

Skull:
Cranial Bones ~
Spoiler


Facial Bones ~
Spoiler
-maxilla one
-maxilla two
-zygomatic one
-zygomatic two
-mandible
-nasal one
-nasal two
-palatine one
-palatine two
-inferior nasal concha one
-inferior nasal concha two
-lacrimal one
-lacrimal two
-vomer


Auditory Ossicles ~
Spoiler
-malleus one
-malleus two
-incus one
-incus two
-stapes one
-stapes two


Hyoid:
Vertebrae Column ~
Spoiler
-cervical vertebrae one
-cervical vertebrae two
-cervical vertebrae three
-cervical vertebrae four
-cervical vertebrae five
-cervical vertebrae six
-cervical vertebrae seven
-thoracic vertebrae one
-thoracic vertebrae one
-thoracic vertebrae two
-thoracic vertebrae three
-thoracic vertebrae four
-thoracic vertebrae five
-thoracic vertebrae six
-thoracic vertebrae seven
-thoracic vertebrae eight
-thoracic vertebrae nine
-thoracic vertebrae ten
-thoracic vertebrae eleven
-thoracic vertebrae twelve
-lumbar vertebrae one
-lumbar vertebrae two
-lumbar vertebrae three
-lumbar vertebrae four
-lumbar vertebrae five
-sacrum
-coccyx
Last edited by syzygy on Mon May 19, 2025 7:12 pm, edited 26 times in total.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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parietal one

you curl hands on my head,
barring my thoughts
from escaping.

you cup my brain in
cold shaky fingers
digging nails into the squish.

you put my skull back together,
plate by plate. crack by crack.
parietal next to frontal next to temporal.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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parietal two


stroke a finger down my skull,
never wavering in its path.
part strands of dusty brown hair,
caress the bone underneath as if you cared.
name every dent, every crack, every hole.
they came from you in fits of jealousy
of anger, of grief. i sat there and let you
carve your name into the back of my head
with a dull pair of safety scissors,
the kind that got taken away from you in first grade
after you threatened to stab the teacher.
Last edited by syzygy on Tue May 06, 2025 4:00 am, edited 2 times in total.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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temporal one


i bleed from my ears,
ignoring the heavy bruises behind them.
my face refuses to move, gaze locked on you,
jaw tied down with duck tape to keep me quiet.
my pupils twitch and dilate, searching, scanning
for anything to help me out of this predicament.
you drag a smooth finger down the fracture in my
temporal bone, smiling all the while. i cannot move
and i lie here, bruised and battered leaking blood
like oil from an old machine left behind to decay.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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temporal two


hiding in bones
to disguise my monstrosity
how do you love me, why
do you love me
when my fingers curl in claws
and my voice turns hoarse.
i drape your bones over my body,
as a way to do away with my ugly.
you place the last piece of myself,
a broken fractured temporal
and smooth it across my brow
as if it were always there, always natural.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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frontal


touch the temple of my left side brain,
skipping rocks across my frontal, skimming fingers
up and down my soul as if it will make it all better.
maybe it will, nobody knows for sure what kind
of remedies you offer. elixirs of love, bottled despair,
maybe a dash of dusted jealousy. it wouldn't be the
first time you tried your witchcraft out on me.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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occipital


sweet syrupy maraschino cherries
dripping down my face, curling
in the curves of my lips and congealing
in the hollows of my collarbone.
my occipital bone is stained red
from the fruits of our labor.
smash a rock down on it,
watch it crack sickeningly
like a soft boiled egg,
all yellow ooze and
broken egg whites.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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ethmoid


your color-stained hands declare you as an artist,
but your sorrowful eyes say you have a soul like mine
which is too clumsy to create, and only knows how
to ruin those who stand close by. don't you agree?
you paint me in shades of grey and red,
colors which reflect my insides onto paper.
you trail a scarlet marker down my ethmoid bone,
gorging smiles into my cheeks and calling it art
then you tilt my face left and right to
see your masterpiece.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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sphenoid


i shrivel under your piercing light,
head throbbing, blood dripping down my nose.
you dance fingers on my skull and
i feel nothing anymore. just numbness.
you spread your hands like a butterfly's
wings in flight, launching high. you make
the complex gesture simple, mocking my
sphenoid bone down to its roots.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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maxilla one


i like the way you lie,
artificial honey poison on my tongue
crunchy sugar coating my teeth
with its confectionery sweetness.
words rot in the back of my throat
and my maxilla hangs loose,
dangling jawbones and blackened teeth
from too much sweet. you taste like
strawberry starbursts and syrupy
maraschino cherries, exploding
in my mouth. you dig claws of disease
and decay into my tissue, shredding apart
my self-worth. your sugary exterior rolls
under my teeth and gives way to bitter
dandelion root middles, melting apart on my tongue.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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maxilla two


they brush the back of their hand against my cheek,
soft and tender, like they care. they take my two maxilla
and form them in the shape of a heart, fingers
wrapped ever so gently around the delicate bone.
they hold me, not as if i were glass or some other
delicate, prone to breaking object, they hold me
as if i had matter clinging on my bones,
as if i would run away if they set me down.
we curl on the couch in the shape of a bowed heart,
and leave my jawbones on the table where they belong.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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zygomatic one


you swipe shimmery paint across my zygomatics,
layering it heavily with my blood all along my cheeks.
taking your thumb, you smear it until it's unrecognizable
as the heart it once was. you place roses in my hair,
saying it compliments my skin but i can only think of
crimson blood, congealing into one thick matted clump.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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zygomatic two


is God in the room with us?
maybe He's buried in the corner,
adorned with cobweb drapes and
wearing a crown of dead weeds
i used to collect because i thought
they would be useful, that they were
beautiful in their own way. i see my
mistakes now, in labeling something
as beautiful when it would only be something
worthless. a little like me, lying on the staircase,
waiting for Him to see the worth in my
useless self, maybe He will use my
zygomatic bones to add to His collection
of old, timeless objects that He wears as finery.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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mandible


modern day stonewall,
deny me my rights as a human
and i shall retaliate with all the
ferocity of the monster you paint me to be.

shades of blood orange and the blushing
crimson hues of cherries stain my hands.
it was never enough for you to hold my heart,
you wanted every other part of me too.

will it ever be enough, these bits and pieces
you have managed to nibble away from me,
will it ever be enough to satiate that
monstrous hunger you call jealousy?

you say i'm like a fire ant,
gnashing mandibles at the
tips of your fingers, spitting
bitter acid at your pretty features.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they




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nasal one


we reconstruct our skeletons
from what's left in our graves.
you dig out my nasal bone
from the dirt, brushing debris off
and slotting it into my face.

we act like martyrs, die like rock stars,
lost in a haze of something higher than ecstasy.
there is no other way for people like us,
born to be one thing, forced to be another.
"sounds gay, i'm in!"

he/they



Marge, it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.
— Homer Simpson