I
She runs through the hallways of my mind
Banging into doorframes
Ripping her skin on the latch of the front door
Stumbling into the darkness of evening
Catching her toe between the stones of the walkway
And falling. 
Facedown.
Legs and fingertips graze the lawn,
Hair dyed red by sirens.

II
A rose cries at the lip of her vase
For the reminiscence silence brings
While life flashes on a blue screen
And behind swollen lids.
I read the story her dead eyes tell
Torturing her over and again
Remembering beauty withered
Crying beauty queens and their melancholy roses.

III
Memory stands in a charcoal auditorium
A ghost on a nameless stage
Beauty is lost
In the swallow of a pill,
The twitch of her eye
The dim screen fills the silence.