Deranged

Her hair is the color of autumn leaves

the dead ones that crunch

the ones that float in the air

her lips always pursed

but no value should slip from them

only illegible language

sparkly incantations

she will bring you light like the moon

she can only survive in the dark

her hair is the color of autumn leaves

same resemblance of the trees bark

but she can't bite you no not yet

her crazy is still lodged in her throat

her pretty hides it well just beneath

the smile she duplicated

she is crazy and dead and pretty too.