Chatter of the slack-jawed skeleton, rattling in the closet. Only does its thin weakness come out under cover of night. A palette of color with which to paint the empty bones; blood red muscle and blue veins. It comes to life through a series of lies, suggestions of the truth. As it grows in strength, I remember the warmth of confidence - such a fleeting feeling as of late, but its passionate heat is welcomed back with open arms. It's amazing how one can live without a backbone for so long. As the decorations finalize, thoughts turn to the parade. An internal carnival where this new structure is displayed.
Throw beads and rice, and i'll drop candy from a smile.
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