by Paige Conley
From the October 2015 Issue

I buried you.
I buried an empty casket.
Your body rained down lumps of flesh
splashing into the sea eaten by sharks.
You did it.
If I say I’m not crazy,
Well that hardly helps my case.
From the middle of my forehead
through the left side of my face,
I have a scar.
You did it.

I buried you.
I buried a casket full of ash.
It was the smoke that got you; not the match.
That’s what’s important.
The tombstone read,
“for we too have lived, loved, and laughed.”
To live as a monster
or to die a good man.
They can be our living dolls, baby.
Why are you all wet, baby?
Set me free, baby.
I murdered my wife in the spring of ’52.
You buried me
and I buried you.

Inspired by the 2010 film, “Shutter Island”