Sitting on Skulls and Bones by Valerie Parente
A pile of skulls and bones,
she sits on them like they’re her throne,
resenting the death that rots beneath,
while presenting the depths of her beliefs.
So much destruction from perfectionism and ultimatums,
so in love with what she had, but love’s what made it complicated,
she was suspended in a bittersweet purgatory,
still existing, but never free,
not quite in heaven, not quite in hell,
and you’d be surprised how bad that felt,
so she did what she does best,
she poured her heart out then she left,
convinced there’d be a savior,
but no one came to save her,
now she mourns all the love she once had,
while the things she loved don’t mourn her back,
it’s a truth she has yet to accept,
so she built this throne out of death,
coping by spinning gold,
out of moping that has grown old,
so regal in all of her grief,
turning life lessons into a trophy,
because there’s so much value in every loss,
you don’t fully see it until it’s gone,
now she sits here in grateful defeat,
honoring the things she willingly reaped,
dead and gone but not dead inside,
because this gratitude is still raw and ripe.
– Valerie Parente (10-9-2020)
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