The way the shoulders hunch like they're trying to protect something invisible and my throat itches with the words I didn't say the easy answers the practiced smiles the old skin draped back on like a costume for an audience that doesn't even SEE and it almost fits still sometimes it almost works the way a ghost limb remembers a body long gone i wanted to scream and shave my head AGAIN and just to see if they’d even flinch this time or maybe maybe it was all in my head maybe the strings are still there but I’m the one holding them now and that's even scarier.