Scars: Poetry

A riddle:
The woman stands
with the scissors
In her hand,
Lifeless hair
drifting to the floor

Behind her,
a smiling, invisible cat
is thrilled that she’s
returning to Wonderland
once again
She wanted someone
To love her darkness,
not just shades of
pink and red
Sometimes the heart
hurts so much,
the miracle is that
it still beats at all
These little rejections
make her withdraw
into a shell,
into a fortress
Her soul empties into
The core of her being,
wrapped in a cocoon
to protect herself
From the world
She has scars,
14 pieces all covered
with tattoos

Her body is separated
just like Osiris,
parts scattered about
the country,
loose threads she has
no strength to pull
She stands in front
of Koontz's Door to December,
where the Winter Garden
sprawls across the vast
landscape of the mind,

With the last
of her strength,
She walks through that door
to make the wine
from her Dragon Tears.

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