we only see the black and blue
bruises that each of us made
on the other's skin.

we are both filled with shame
until the clothes come off.

was it a moment of weakness
or momentary bliss?

In a burst of new me,
I will cut my losses, like I'll cut my hair.
Watch pieces fall off
and be brushed away.
After all, my hair
reaches to my waist.
The past three years have
been filled with upkeep
I can no longer bear.
So, in 2015,
I will cut my losses and my hair.