Butterfly Scars

Across her skin
scarified
Are the markers of all her pains,
her joys and hopes
raised high, cut deep within
starkly visible to the eye

This strange affliction
caused by surfeit of feeling?
These signs of tribulation
some may call ugly, bid her hide
each scar line behind clothing,
body paint and artifice

This visible history
arises from feeling, not from choice
Just stretching, yearning to grow
Strange perhaps, I’ll give you
But in this web of change
it only shows the process
of internal re-arrangement

It is her history upon her skin
Her growth and lessons
Her hopeful and hopeless heart
Looking odd to you, looking alien
I see others turn away

But this is only transformation
In her terms, all that she knows
Her journal of a journey
which others may not recognise
And I wonder to myself
in such moments, should she cry
Would the caterpillar say
‘How ugly is the butterfly!’

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Water and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Butterfly Scars

  1. Annie says:

    I love the climax of this one Helen!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s