Living with the dead

By Miss P
Summary: POEM. Temperance is thinking…
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones

AN/ This is my first attempt to write about Bones… so be kind!


I see dead people everyday
I know exactly how to handle the bones that are laid out on my table
every single detail

But with the living, I'm totally lost
I once said my most meaningful relationships are with the dead
and I meant every word

There are people around me every day
but they just pass me by
they all see me as the cold, aloof Dr. Temperance Brennan
but have anyone seen inside of that shell?

I hardly remember who I am anymore
I have chosen to not think of the vulnerable little girl I once was
I have chosen to not let people get to close
to not get to close to anyone myself

People you love disappear
I've learnt that the hard way
and I never want to go through it again
left alone with nothing but unanswered questions
wondering what happened

Yes, my parents disappeared without a trace when I was a teen
but only a few persons know that
because I don't like talking about myself

That way I can prevent people from knowing things they shouldn't know
things that could end up hurting me one day

That's why I prefer dead people
they don't let you down
and they never abandon you…