the hair lands, making black rings in the bathroom
it looks longer when it's severed
more alive on the floor than it ever was on my head
somehow more elegant framing the tile than my face

i just looked
not meeting my eyes in the mirror

when it was all gone
out of sight down the drain, or in the trash
i finally looked at myself

nothing softening my face
nothing distracting from my harsh features
nothing covering up my insecurities
nothing to hide my fear

but this way
it feels real

tired
so tired
of
caring

so i pretended my hair
was everything i had ever cared too much about
the stupid validation that i craved
every incessant insecurity
anyone i gave a **** about, that never looked at me twice

and
i took the clippers
and buzzed it all off

i am a fool
emptying my chest
and searching for gold
that you cannot give

searching for truth
in a sea of uncertainty
looking desperately for answers
in the land of unknowns

i must be a fool

Whenever I steal a glance at you
No matter how fleeting the image is in my memory
The photographer in me comes to life, trying
Trying to note the focal point of your body
The light source
Shadows, colors, position
blink
The artist in me turns on, and
I secretly trace the outline of your shoulders
I recreate every single strand of your hair
On invisible paper
blink
The poet in me struggles to the surface, attempting
Attempting to describe the texture of the skin
I never touched, the lips I haven't kissed
Wanting to put into words feelings I can't even fathom
blink
All the while, the student in me desperately tries
Not to let the inevitable sigh escape from my lips
In the middle of class
Whenever I steal a glance at you