I've been pulling out my hair
faster than I can grow it.
Frustrating isn't even the word
I would use to describe this.
I fear that one day I could wake up
and it will be gone.
I wish I could wake up one day
and it will be fine.
But I know that this is my
mountain to climb,
and even as I sit here twirling
the hair that I never imagined
would be at this length;
around my finger,
I know that one day I'll be
on the other side of this
and wonder how it ever happened.