She wasn't talking about her hair
When she cut dead ends to grow
One cut two cuts you never stare
She gives bleeding care that you throw
You give her a dark box full of blades
And the blood flows perfect like wine
With pain her heart draws love shades
To hide the anguish crimson line
By time the dark box became a gift
She's ready to collect her new scars
She blooms daily to take your shift
"Give me the box to give you the stars"

∴ Lyna Salman