Was it me ?

A leaf fluttered behind me in the snow
casting a shadow of a cloaked giant
Was that me ?
Sneaking up to stab myself
and rob me,
of what was mine
and yet was not. 

Sculptor

If I could sculpt
I would carve
out
from my brain
these thoughts.

Suck out the pain
and
re-inject it
in that part,
and call it me.

And you would ask,
do I love me ?