The Thorns
She has wrapped her heart in these thorns.
Nothing gets inside and nothing leaves.
Well, not alive, anyway.
There are wild things sitting on her shoulders.
They look cute, but I wouldn’t trust them.
I worry for the hummingbird.
It has been eating her pain for too long.
Its poor heart has turned black too.
Meanwhile some butterflies mind their own business.
They are not here to save, or to comfort.
They are just resting their wings for a while.
GloPoWriMo Day 0 - a portrait
