me-skeleton

she's taking it out the upstairs window I can hear the scraping on the ledge as she pushes off. I wait, wait... for the tumultuous crash that is sure to follow, for the plane won't fly without the head, which I hid. she's too young to realize this though, and so the afternoon adventure soon to turn death spectacle proceeds. I should yell or make some effort to stop her, but she has been so ruthless with the bugs and bats that I don't care if she falls to her end amidst the bones of the devastated me-skeleton aircraft. Her blood can feed the thirsty ground and perhaps a lovely twisted black tree will grow from the spot and then fall and crush this miserable prison of a house I can't seem to escape.
The crash comes and I shake myself out of the lovely lilting daydream of destruction, and take a step towards the dirty window to peer out at the hopefully horrendous scene...
she sits, surrounded by the bones and sinews, and giggles gleefully, smashing a beetle with a fragment of femur.
Things just don't work out the way we know they will.