I loose my ponytail and my hair falls
in ripples and ringlets around my waist.
I hear her; from downstairs she howls and calls
me to obey as my will turns to waste.
I walk on light feet, heart pregnant, weighted
with the contents of my soul. In soaking
my sorrow it sapped my self, then waited
for release, my brittle remains croaking.
I reach my window and sit on the edge;
warm air puffs from full sky cheeks, illusive.
Stepping onto the roof, slowly I hedge
tow’rd the ledge, the Task somewhat elusive.
I turn my back on the open night air,
the leaden weight free- the blade sliced my hair.



-LP