Perennial

By Hope Simpson

Should I mourn every bloom I pluck from the earth

And cry for each petal I steal from its stem?

Should I weep for the beauty I have destroyed

Or rejoice because it will grow again?

Decapitated daisies

Lie

In chains around my neck

Choking me

With their immortality –

I rip

And I pick

I tear

And I cut

But no thick scarlet seeps from their veins.

I snatch

And I pluck

I hack

And I scratch

But I cannot cause them such pain!

I destroy

And I burn

I shatter

And slaughter

As they will resurface again, again.

Though what I should have known is that

They bruise and scar, like us, in the same vein.

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