I sat brushing my hair,
pulling strands with each stroke,
as light reflecting off golden locks
and the day slipped by my window.
my arm turned violent.

I kept going,
as my nose grew wider, stepping
onto thin lips,
widening the gaps
of my teeth.
skin turned to the hues of winter,
a color that forced me to
shut my eyes as
hair follicles cracked,
seeping into my ears
like the words I heard daily.

My face split in two,
and I could see the words bouncing
against the trampoline of my brain.
And my hair came out in rivers,
sliding down the crevices of my back into
the pockets of my dress.

I carried them wherever
I went, trying to keep a firm grasp on
what wasn't a part of me anymore