Jan 2017
i wonder if any of the same hair when we first got together is still on my head
it's a weird thought
maybe the very last centimeters
hair cuts
hair dye
remember when my ex cut my hair?
remember both times i cut my hair to my shoulders or above?
i wonder where the hair is that you first touched
several hair brushes
scattered on pillows and old sheets
washing machines
wherever i go my hair will leave
damage
breakage
fall out from stress
somewhere, right now is the old me
or breaking down in the soil
now i am so artificial
it's a weird thought
maybe the very last centimeters
hair cuts
hair dye
remember when my ex cut my hair?
remember both times i cut my hair to my shoulders or above?
i wonder where the hair is that you first touched
several hair brushes
scattered on pillows and old sheets
washing machines
wherever i go my hair will leave
damage
breakage
fall out from stress
somewhere, right now is the old me
or breaking down in the soil
now i am so artificial
This is about how much I used to worry about my hair, and some days I have peculiar thoughts about what happened to the hairs that have fallen out and where they could be. Somewhere there are multicolored- brightly painted pieces of hair
or they have slowly decomposed
I used to dye my hair a lot and ocasionally I still do- but not like I used to.
The last line references how now I feel so fake.. I have changed so much. I used to be a care free person, I didn't care what people think. My hair has been almost every color possible. Nowadays I am always switching between blonde and brown, although it isn't me deep down, it puts me in the norm. I have been following the crowd and this poem talks about how I have come to realization about it through something so simple: hair.
In my mind that has also been something that means a lot to me and it would speak my personality through it's self. I'm always changing. I'm not who I was. I am fake as can be.
or they have slowly decomposed
I used to dye my hair a lot and ocasionally I still do- but not like I used to.
The last line references how now I feel so fake.. I have changed so much. I used to be a care free person, I didn't care what people think. My hair has been almost every color possible. Nowadays I am always switching between blonde and brown, although it isn't me deep down, it puts me in the norm. I have been following the crowd and this poem talks about how I have come to realization about it through something so simple: hair.
In my mind that has also been something that means a lot to me and it would speak my personality through it's self. I'm always changing. I'm not who I was. I am fake as can be.
