I did not really think it through
When the first few strands of my hair came falling to the floor.

But then again I don't really want to think.

That was the point.

As the blunt kitchen scissors sheared what was left of the choppy mess on my head

I am worthless.
That's what you always tell me.

I don't want to think.

You never really did love me.

You always left cuts and bruises on me
Never letting me heal for your own selfish reasons.

You are never at fault.
But you've certainly made your mark.

Now I can only attempt to cut what damage you've done to me out of my life.

My fragile locks scattered around on the cold tile floor.

I can't bear to look.

You don't know what you've done.
You never will as much as I wish you would.
More strands fall from my shaking hands.

I wish I could cut you out.

-Kore