In the mirror
I don’t recognize her
She had waist length hair
She used to be proud of it
Until it began to fall out
Five strands
Twelve strands
Later in clumps
One day while she was eating at table
Plopped right into her dinner
Instead of throwing it away
She uses it as stuffing
Hair for her dolls
She has eyes
Brown with yellow flecks
But she doesn’t know that anymore
She dreams in black now
A lovely singing voice
The church folks love it
Mother adores it
I always thought she was going to make it big
Bigger then the rest of us
That’s all gone now
She speaks in squeaks, grunts and moans
Broken sentences
She has taken to wearing black gloves in the house
Before it was just when she would go outside
They never come off
She will probably wear a veil next
She will never tell me the truth
But I know it is all because of a boy