She Dances

Rose petals dance
on her grave,
mimicking the pills that
had skipped from her wilted palm.

Her stone is engraved with
"obsession in a bottle,"
dredging up the delight
of her over-indulged caper.

So now she dances,
amid the flourishing colour,
and she whispers her freedom
between the blossoms.

She dances to the memory
of her sorrow, and she listens
to the clatter of her empty bottle
on the harsh stone floor.