Skeletons Out Of My Closet

Down the long sidewalk
Towards the bone yard I trot.
One might think this rare,
But I do it a lot.

From my front steps all the way
To the end of my block
I can't shake the feelings
Of a haunted walk.

My face heats with shame
And beads of sweat drip.
Not even Jack can't drown my guilt
With the lowest of all trips.

All I need is sleep,
But the ones who follow me
Pinch my nose, cover my mouth
To the point I cannot breathe.

As I'm covered by the blanket
Of the shadows of the trees
I hear the army of bony heels clanking
Against the as-faulty street.

The ribs clink as though musical
When a branch rubs against them.
The bony heels keep clanking,
And I look over my shoulder again.

The closet door wouldn't shut,
I know as I look at Dad's grave,
'cause my skeletons followed me closely
Even past the graveyard gate.