My skeletons don't live in my closet 

they choose not to hide 

like the baggage i carry with me 

is how they reside 

I do not understand 

how one's faults and error can live in a shadow 

when mines follow me 

in every place that i go 

My skeletons don't live in my closet 

they sit in my passenger seat 

tapping on my shoulder 

when i go out to eat 

Truth is i have skeletons of all kinds, 

they hover over me and cover my eyes

they are displeased with my closet space  

and want to contribute to my demise

They are the painful reminder 

that i am the common variable 

in the doing of each of their creations 

They are the painful reminder 

of who i once was 

i cannot escape them 

and they wish to never "escape" me 

They are the painful reminder 

that no matter how much i wish to grow 

i will be prone to their making 

and this is something they know