3/8/12
your words flow in riddles
and you speak not in tongues
i heard they buried you at sea
and they stole half your brain

and they haunt through
your memories
and kill them
(in peace
with your
innocence,
malevolence,
and pained
painted nails)

and though you may dance
these movements aren’t yours
and though you may breathe
the breaths aren’t mine