These bones.

So here is an attempt at being deep, or hipster what ever you call it.

                        These bones.
These bones.... MY!!! bones. Are filled with words that are trapped inside and must be broken out. I must feel the pain of a tibia or fibia braking before I can listen to the wisdom these bones have. I can only hear when I'm laying in bed wondering what I will do to get thru these 4, 6 or even 8 weeks. I ask my self will I just be a burden to hangout with. So i decide I will stay home and listen to the sound of my bones telling me. "Your better than this. After I am healed you will do great things!!." I sit as my bones tell me I'm worth more than i thought. So I make it thru the recovery prosses only to be thrown back into a society that puts down those dreams of being something great. I sit there wishing my bones would talk but the wound is healed and they are once again silenced, and now the old wound is open again. The wound of a creativety suppressing society!!!

And this is a little sample of my inner hipster slash deep thinker;)