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wind in my hair
both indoor and outdoor alike, I feel tugged upon.
I feel cheated of my own journey,
because my navigation has been purloined and rendered helpless by the sakes of you.
I watch as you rip the leaves off of trees,
stealing their last chances of life and replacing their final breath with your cool breeze.
The piles of death raked neatly on my lawn are recklessly thrown about,
and any garbage littering surrounding streets is forced to flutter in your wake.
My clothes are ****** and heaved in the opposite direction of my heart.
No matter how purposefully I march my soul in one direction, your soul will always best me.
I am trying to go right but you instead draw me left.
My dark brown curls are turned into thin wispy locks in all that is your power.
I follow the new direction pathed by my wandering hair, the new direction pathed by you that pulls it.
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