alopecia

Tue, 04/16/2019 - 12:25 -- barenda

What did I do and I will fix it

I had a crown for only a minute

I felt like a queen beautiful and strong

The layers had shed and I felt free

I smiled and played and loved

I nearly found my freedom.

Nearly…

Then I put shackles on again

I lost my hair

I became ugly

There was nothing pretty about me.

I’m hollow inside; beast on the outside

I felt beautiful for a minute

Now I am broken

 

Every day gets harder to look at myself in the mirror

Soon it will be out everyone will see

The monster I am the monster I’m hiding

Is it the hair or not I don’t know

Do I even care or just let it all go

Why pull…why does it still pull at me

Who cares what they think when they look at my head.

Why in the hell would I still rather be dead?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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