I’m have a hard time
accepting that I have a skeleton inside of me.
A skeleton!
And of all things.
What am I, some kind of monster?
ii.
I’ve only ever known
my great-Grandfather
as a skeleton,
but that is because it’s the only
photograph we have of him.
iii.
We have a painting of my great-grandfather,
but it’s of a skeleton too,
as it was painted from the photograph
Time to have Haribo for breakfast, methinks. 😉
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Reblogged this on davidbruceblog #2.
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