i began collecting my hair in April
it sits on the tops of pillows
weaves itself onto scalps of my loves
sets itself on bathroom floors and
swirls onto the walls of showers
wraps itself around your tender parts
and leaves me pounds lighter.
i find it on this very page
soft and breakable and shines in lamplight
that is harsh
like how you pulled the strands
because i asked you to.
i shed so much because i secretly wish to vanish
and my vanity  has not taken over
and my vapor sits still behind my gums
even when i am left alone
taking bristles to my head
to relax because
i have no one to play with me
and no one to look into
when the sky is a combination of both day and night.