Sleep in the Killing Field

But who can blame me--I learned early to tiptoe so they didn't know I was coming. Run as if something was chasing me. And when I tear my own hair out, I make safety nets.

I crawl from my grave in that field, with Amber's arm hanging from me. Her second mouth grimacing between her chin and shoulder blades.

Clawing to get on my knees--Amber tightens her grip.

Suddenly Jaclyn screws out of the ground, her throat in a permanent pirouette.

Her burial blanket red and cloaked.

And it was here, attached to the girls--I dragged myself home.