Don't look
Don't even think about
The Hairbrush

You've put it off
But now
you must put on a show

Almost hear the hairs

Doing it with fingers is worse
Like a rake to leaves
Smile
Remain calm
Carry on

Showering is a new hell
There they stick to you
Like leftover over seaweed
on the sand of your scalp

Wet Souvenirs of the past weeks
You pick them off one by one
try not to cry again

I hate this
Hate what has happened
Search for a blame
obvious choices
Attempt Anger
Anything but this empty smile
(Maybe the hormones will help)
and the familiar throb

But all I feel is Panic
Sorrow
and Resignation

That tomorrow always holds
another war

Regardless of how sick I am of fighting.