Family Album

I’m have a hard time

accepting that I have a skeleton inside of me.

A skeleton!

Of all things.

What am I, some kind of monster?


I’ve only ever known my great-Grandfather

as a skeleton,

because that is the only

photograph we have of him.


We have a painting of my great-grandfather,

but it’s of a skeleton too,

as it was painted from the photograph


I have no memories

of my great-Opa. 

I was too young. Although my family

insists that I look a lot like him.

Or, maybe, that I will one day,

after all my skin is gone.


But we’re dealing in assumptions here.


2 thoughts on “Family Album

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