the ghost of my cut hair
still haunts me
i wish it could grow faster

the dreams of my childhood
still come back to me
in conversations with people who say i was only this short
when they saw me last
i wish i could grow quicker

they say when you cut your hair
you have a new life
(or something like that)
but my fingers still ****
when i run them
                            through
                        ­                 my
                                              scal-
and every single day, i've
forgotten
just how long i've been
my hair is rust
in spaghetti form
with lots of frays
                           at the ends
                                           i remember i wanted to be a zoologist
                                                       ­                                                    and model
                                                           ­                                                                a-