Skeletons In My Closet

I think I am collecting skeletons,
I hang them in a row.
Sometimes I go and visit them
when there's no where else to go.
They remind me life is choices.
They whisper what i lack.
If i forget to lock the closet,
they jump up on my back.
Some people have demons.
Some have tiny gnomes.
Some have weeds growing in their gardens,
Some never find their way back home.
But me, i collect skeletons.
I hang them in a row.
Sometimes i go and visit them,
when there's no where else to go.
I watch the way they move their bones.
I see them prance around.
When they think that i'm not looking,
They try on my weathered gowns.
They fly about the room,
in the moonlight the gowns glisten.
They flutter past my ears,
they tell me i should listen.
"Do you remember this one?"
"What would have happened then??"
But if i ask to try one on,
They say they only fit on them.