Every time I get my heart broken I cut my hair. I want to cut off inches upon inches, rid my scalp of the hurtful hands that ran through my hair, every playful stroke and every aggressive pull will be erased.


I cut my hair with a full heart

no one left their fingerprints on my head. I declared an end to my pattern in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of safety scissors

Long hair is not a sign of being loved while short isn't a sign of being lonely. I proclaim to cut off this notion and defy this idea.


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