1.
I’m exposed by the hair that falls from me in long, dark and grotesque trails.
It’s impossible to pretend I wasn’t where I’ve been.
2.
They’re on pillows I shouldn’t have slept on and on chairs when I linger too long.
They used to shake out onto dance floors, but I don’t go dancing anymore. Not lately.
They’re reminders of all that I’ve been and shouldn’t have and maybe won’t be again.
3.
Sometimes I don’t even notice how they tangle around everything I own. Other times, I’m mortified to find them spreading under my toes.
No matter how I coil them upon my head with the utmost care, they still fall, mocking the restraint I impose, beg for, then abandon.
4.
Are they still a part of me if they fall off me? What if I don’t want them anymore? Who cares?! I didn’t want to grow them anyways!
5.
You may not remember me, but you’re sure to find a strand of me long after you’ve forgotten.
out on July 14, 2023
via Room 40
out on May 19, 2023
via Room 40
out on June 11, 2021
via Room 40