He loves me?

There was only ever one
snapping it's elegant neck with ease
I rolled it back and forth
between my thumb and forefinger
it's white layered skirt
tinged with pink
fascinated me
dancing and twirling around
and around its bright yellow yolk
I picked the feathered fingers off
one by one
he loves me
he loves me not
leaving it all to chance.

LH 2015

The wound will scar
her distress is deep
she keeps picking at the scab
it will never heal
It reminds her she's alive
and she wants to see it bleed

Only the contours will mend
become smooth to touch
they tell her grieving takes time
but it's all too much
time is only an illusion
almost fooling her at times
she keeps picking at the scab
telling everyone she's fine.

LH 2015

Scars are there to remind us
not to fall again
but often we do
each time a little harder than before.

LH 2015