skeletons

you clean out the closet
one skeleton at a time.
you put them all on the couch
together. their bones are
bleached white and dusty,
brittle with age. maybe
they aren't skeletons at all
anymore. maybe they are just
reminders of a life lived,
for better or for worse.
it's not like you're running
for congress anytime soon.
maybe it's time to bag them,
and toss them to the curb
for Thursdays pick up.
it's time. it's way over due.