Like Laurel Leaves

Love, like laurel leaves, folded and braided into a wreath—

So strained, yet still not forgotten.

Love, like a ribbon tying up a scroll of parchment—

So forced, yet hiding unspoken words.

Love, like the leaves of a tree during a storm—

So easy to let go, so easy to break, yet they keep holding on.

Love, like the scar on your wrist—

The blood dries, yet the wound stays.

Love, like a candle burning—

The flame dies as the wax lies crushed.

Love, like a crumpled up piece of paper—

Can be straightened back, but the crevasses remain.

Love, like a pencil—

That keeps growing shorter each time

We sharpen it.

Love, like glitter—

Can never be found, once scattered.